Harry Potter and the Enemy Vessel
by sharlendown
Summary: A new student enters Hogwarts in the Trio's sixth year, laden with secrets and strange behaviors. The teachers are wary, and her interests are singular; her one directive is her only concern as she navigates the daily life of Hogwarts.
1. The New Student

She glanced over, alerted by her classmates' sudden lack of enthusiasm and more obviously by their screams. The warmth of the September evening cracked in the sudden chill, iced over by the penetrating sensation of death and despair looming all around her, seeping in to the core of her. She looked up from the cobblestone walkway, flashes coming to mind of contributions to her current state. Sharlen glanced back, her dark, hollow eyes merely looking, merely observing, yet the second her intense gaze was upon the Dementors they jerked back in fear and confusion.

Their dark forms swerved in the air, their torn cloaks billowing in the winds caused by one another in their distress. They extended their splintering, rotting arms toward her, their long, boney fingers extending and retracting as though to beckon her. Slowly Sharlen turned away from the Dementors and continued down the steps, boots clicking away, and yet no one followed her, not even the floating and now motionless beasts. With each step she took, the normal end-of-summer night air washed over her, like settling into a warm bath. It made her shiver against the previous chill.

She continued toward the carriages, feeling as though her body were defrosting. She knew the Dementors had gone, either by force or sudden lack of interest in the other Hogwarts students. She swept into an empty carriage, vaguely making sure she was ready for someone to join her, although no one did.

The carriage began to move and Sharlen sank into the seat cushions, absently clutching her little black book. She missed the cold and wished the Dementors had followed her inside to freeze up her surroundings and her memories. For whatever reason the Dementors seemed to have an opposite effect on her. To all others an experience with a Dementor, even if minor, was often worse than the horrible memories they fed off of. Perhaps it was because she had little left to fear, and she lived in a world of other people's memories.

She didn't have much of a family; all she had was herself and the few people she allowed to gain her trust. It had been many years since she'd actively had someone to care about. Who was to say only adults could judge the connection between strangers? Who was to say that the feeling she thought thinking about him, the feeling that her chest was collapsing and that every breath sucked her deeper in, was all in her mind?

If that wasn't love then she didn't want to love. She couldn't imagine, let alone take, anything stronger than how she felt then.

Her carriage stopped, not abruptly, but still with enough force to knock her from her thoughts and to the floor. She stood absently, clutching her book and her cape close to her body as the door opened to allow her escape. She walked, staring at nothingness, at blackness, pausing in this to glance at the creatures that had been pulling the carriage. She hadn't noticed them before, having been too preoccupied by the Dementors. The decrepit beasts, black and decayed as though death themselves, whinnied and reared their legs at her, tossing their heads and snorting as she passed. Judging by the other students reactions it was obvious to Sharlen that the beasts didn't typically make any noise or fuss whatsoever, also that they were invisible to most if not all of them. Sharlen kept walking, though. She heard a voice, some boy trying to calm them, him and some girl with a distant voice. She ignored them. Ignored everything—she was too close in proximity to too many people.

"Didn't you hear them?"

"Hear what?"

"Horses! It sounded like there were horses pulling the carriages; they were going crazy!"

"Wonder what caused it?"

Sharlen felt a jab hit her back, a single accusing finger and she faltered slightly. She hadn't physically been touched, but mentally. Sharlen's magical abilities were telekinesis and Divination. She practiced Tarot and could see, literally see, people's auras. Could hear their thoughts, on occasion. Could touch them and know their pasts, their futures. "It was her," the other voice whispered, the one pointing. The jab was harder the second time. "She walked past and they just went crazy. Like a bunch of invisible horses just completely lost it."

Stopping slowly, Sharlen glanced over her shoulder. The girl who'd been pointing jumped, throwing her arm down by her side, and the one accompanying her glanced between the two. Sharlen's arms disappeared under her cloak a second as she approached. Both girls backed away a little, no doubt fearing she was reaching for a wand. They were orange tinged with red, the auras reminding Sharlen of fire; uneasy, nervous.

Stopping right before the pointer, Sharlen's expression never changed from her glare, her cold face hardened with her eyes narrowed. She looked murderous. Slowly she reached up and stuck a little rainbow sticker to the girl's forehead and walked away. She glanced the change in auras the instant she'd turned around. Pale blue. She'd perplexed them.

It was much easier to absorb secondary emotions like confusion and indifference than it was to handle joy, fear, or rage.

She did not feel up for dealing with the masses this night. As the swarm of her peers headed for the Great Hall, Sharlen kept walking. She let her feet guide her, absently hoping she didn't run into anyone. However, she had no such luck. "And just where do you think you're going Miss Down?"

She froze at that voice. '_Nosy bastard_,' she wanted to scream. '_Just get away from me!_' "The Great Hall's the other way," another voice added. She turned to find yet another familiar face, the face of Severus Snape, had joined the first speaker, Remus Lupin.

"So you've returned," she hissed quietly. Both men strained to hear her. She was looking up at Lupin with eyes only, her face forward so her expression was cold and frightening, she was sure. "I thought they chucked you out of here three years ago."

"Not quite," he said cheerfully, gripping his wand in his pocket although the smile on his face reached his ears. He was acting playful, but she knew, _knew_, he was bracing himself. "I actually quit, but, I saw fit to it to come back this year. Nostalgia, you know how it goes."

"Your aura's as auburn as your hair used to be, Lupin. You can't lie to me," Sharlen muttered. "You insisted on coming back this year to keep an eye on me. You should have a little more faith, wolf."

He sighed calmly but inside shook. "I'm not afraid of you. You're to call me Professor."

"What the hell do you two want?"

"That's to be discussed at another time," Snape muttered in a bored tone. "For now you're to join the rest of the students in the Great Hall. You still need to be sorted."

"Dumbledore knows where to put me. I'd rather not sit there and be stared at. I'm migraine free, at the moment," Sharlen muttered through gritted teeth, feigning pleasantness.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sharlen," Lupin corrected. Sharlen glanced around quickly, slowly lifting a torch from its mount behind Lupin and directing it with her eyes toward the back of his head. Unfortunately he felt the heat before it hit, whipped out his wand, and extinguished it, placing it back in its holder. He started off toward the Great Hall and Snape, perfectly calm on the inside and out, beckoned her with a hand and swept off too. Sharlen just glared.

"You won't win, Snape," she called after him. "I came here for one reason, and that's to get him back. I'm going to heal him. I won't let you hurt and lie to him anymore." Lupin faltered at these words but didn't turn or say anything.

"They're all waiting. Come along." Snape continued toward the Hall. Sharlen Down followed, suspicious, and thoroughly pissed off.

What was worse, Snape made a big hairy deal about her coming. Not only did he burst through the doors loudly and gesture her in before him, immediately halting whatever ceremony was going on, but he also announced to the whole Hall, "We have one more to be sorted, Professor McGonagall." Sharlen kicked him and he turned quickly toward her, in utter disbelief. She stuck a sticker to his right cheekbone before he knew what had happened and left him angry and confused as she strode toward the old witch clutching the Sorting Hat.

The Gryffindors way over to her right howled with laughter, some in disbelief, their auras grinning colors of dark blue for playfulness and jubilance, brown for anxiousness. She also sensed a lot of suspicion and unease around her. She briefly touched a finger to her temple. Too much positive or negative energy drained her very easily.

The Sorting Hat watched her approach curiously, and Sharlen just stared back, putting one foot in front of the other. "Slytherin," it called out before she even reached the stage, so sure, so confident in its unquestioned answer that it shouted a house at her when she was still more than twenty feet away. A collective gasp was heard, amongst a lot of muttering and whispering. Even the teachers up at the top table were glancing at each other and at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore. Sharlen looked at him when she'd stopped advancing toward the hat. He just looked at her and smiled and, in sync with Professor McGonagall, jabbed his head in the direction of Slytherin table. Jeers met her as she gave a very slight nod and changed her direction.

Whispers met her ears. "She wasn't even fifteen feet from it!"

"She's gotta have some serious Dark Magic in her."

"Well duh! Just look at her!"

"Look at her!"

"Why's she coming so late? She's old, definitely not a first year…"

"She's the one who sent the Dementors away, and made those invisible horse things go crazy!"

"I'll believe it. Just look at her!"

"Look at her!"

"Look at her!"

Sharlen faltered slightly but kept walking as though nothing were wrong. There was too much energy here. She needed to be secluded.

She took a seat on the side of Slytherin table that would allow her to observe the Gryffindors who were now no longer cheering or smiling. Some stared, and actually a lot of them glared. So, now that she had been labeled the enemy she _was_ the enemy? '_He won't turn me away_,' she assured herself. '_Once I break that spell he'll be mine again_.'

Sharlen spent the entire feast staring at Snape. She didn't touch her food and whoever tried to talk to her, maybe one or two students, just succeeded in getting one of her infamous stickers stuck to them; one on the ear, one on the cheek. Finally Snape looked her in the eye, rolled his eyes, and nodded. She looked to Lupin, to Dumbledore, but they just stared back. Her eyes narrowed slightly at their lack of explanation and decided she liked Snape's answer best anyway. She got up from the table and swept from the Hall, careful not to catch anyone's eyes.

She closed the doors behind her with her mind and fell to the ground, breathing hard. Would every day be this bad? She knew it was a risk, coming to a place as highly populated as Hogwarts, but it was something she'd been willing to risk. For her it was easy to 'drown' in emotion when the emotions of those around her were strong enough and in a certain quantity. She should probably talk to Lupin or Snape she figured… or maybe even Dumbledore or McGonagall if it came to it, try to get permission to transform between classes. Her master had made her an Animagus and when in her animal form, a snow owl, her powers weren't as strong. Yes. She decided as she slowly stood back up that she would have to talk to them.

Sharlen gasped as the doors of the Great Hall reopened just before she set off again. Before her was a boy of about 16, probably in the same year as she would be with white blonde hair and brilliant gray eyes. A lopsided smile was plastered to his shiny complexion and, not to her surprise, he came to her willingly. "Hey," he called as she started back off. He reached for her shoulder but she whipped around again and hissed at him.

"What do you want?"

"I'm the Slytherin Prefect. I noticed you left early, so I just thought I'd show you to our dormitory. I assume that's where you're going?"

The gel that slicked back his hair was nauseating her, and his intent and confidence wasn't helping her headache. "I know perfectly well who you are, Malfoy. I can find it alone," she informed him, starting off again. "Go help the first years and leave me alone."

"Hey babe, hold on-" Sharlen glared at the floor before her, stopping in her tracks and stopping him as well.

"Seriously. Don't touch me." She transformed right before his eyes and flew off to the Owlery, knowing it would be the only place she'd find solitude for now.

Malfoy watched her go, ran his fingers through his hair smugly, and turned to return to the Hall. "She digs me," he told himself as he tucked in to dessert.

Sharlen greeted midnight in the Owlery, perched by the window and watching the Hogwarts grounds, observing how they looked at the darkest hour of night. The Dementors were restless at their posts. Dumbledore had bewitched them before Voldemort could, so they were still on 'their' side. He'd allowed them to continue guarding the grounds, but under no circumstances were they to enter them. Such were the rules, so she'd heard, three years previous. '_He's in this building somewhere_,' she knew as a breeze ruffled her feathers. '_He's here somewhere, sleeping, unprepared. Unless he saw me earlier…_' She wouldn't think that. She wasn't sure. Tomorrow she would search him out.

She heard someone enter and swiveled her head in the direction of the door. Lupin and Snape were there, the pair of them, wands at the ready and looking straight at her. "Here the rules are students need to stay in their Dormitories all night, Sharlen," Lupin informed her.

She hooted sharply, snapping her beak at them a few times before swooping down to the ground and transforming. She crossed her arms over her black book as she normally did, as though it was a part of her. "How did you know I'd be here?" She was asking Snape. She took no interest in Lupin.

"Draco Malfoy," he muttered in his deep, slurring voice. She knew it would have been his first guess regardless, but he needed to put up a show for Lupin.

"So, what, you have him tailing me?"

"Dumbledore has requested you always have an escort for the most part of your stay here," he explained in a bored tone, his grip on his wand relaxed.

Instinctively Sharlen folded her arms even tighter. "I thought I'd passed his test," she hissed, the wind carrying her words to them and her hair billowing about her angrily. "What do I have to do to get him off my ass, eh?"

"Dumbledore let you in because he does trust you," Lupin tried to reason, "You have proved that. He just doesn't trust you to always follow the rules."

"And he shouldn't," she muttered, averting her eyes from the men in the doorway. "Lower your wand, Lupin," she added as an afterthought. "I'm not here to cause trouble." He frowned at her a little but he did, indeed, lower his wand.

"To bed with you, Sharlen," Snape ordered, pointing her out the door. Sharlen turned a pleading look to Snape.

"But, Mast-" she began, but he narrowed his eyes at her and she hung her head and walked past the men. "Yes Professors." She spat out each word through clenched teeth and made her way to the Slytherin Common room and then to bed.

However, Malfoy was still waiting for her. "What do you want?" she asked him in a bored drone after entering the Common Room. He gestured her over, patting the seat beside him on the couch. She refused it with her eyes and her stance, how she thrust out a hip at the mere wordless suggestion.

"I just want to have a little chat with you," he said innocently. "This is the first time we've gone to school together since we were ten."

"You say it as if it's my fault," she muttered, examining the Common Room. It had three basic colors; green, silver, and black. The silver was used as an accent; translucent silver drapes, silver talons on the clawed black tables and chairs, silver instruments and decorations scattered about the room, contrasting with the black furniture and green bricks. Sharlen rolled her eyes at it. How stereotypical. Were all the dorms like this? "You know damn well that I would have come here sooner if I could have. Years ago."

"God Sharlen, don't put words in my mouth," Draco sighed huffily, narrowing his eyes at her slightly. "I know Severus wouldn't let you come. It was all part of the plan, you know that. And you shouldn't blow this chance." He stood and walked toward her. She didn't move. "You've been given a chance to be among others like yourself. Don't throw this opportunity away." He stopped right in front of her and whispered into her ear, "Leave the bastard alone. You'll only hurt him. You've always only hurt him." He gave her a slow kiss on the neck and walked past her, waving a goodnight over his shoulder.

Sharlen hadn't seen the wave. When his lips touched her flesh she'd frozen, eyes wide, her book falling to the floor with a soft clang as the metal corners hit the bricks. Her vision was blocked of the Common Room and replaced by a scene, a scene of Dumbledore and Draco alone in a tower, Dumbledore completely vulnerable and unarmed. Malfoy looked frightened, hesitant, his aura a mixture of orange and brown to show anxiousness and energy. She saw Snape storm in after a series of Death Eaters and finally kill Dumbledore. There was a hidden presence in the vision. A familiar presence.

She covered her ears against the Unforgivable Curse and turned from the images. She glared as Malfoy continued to walk away from her up the stairs. "Is that your mission?!" She screamed at him. "Is that what your all-powerful mission is?!"

"Ahh," he muttered smugly, turning around. "So you saw me in my moment of triumph against Dumbledore, eh?"

Sharlen braced herself and took a step back. She didn't want to tell him that he'd failed, that her Master would be the one to kill him. To tell him that would make him all the more anxious to succeed, and she needed the old man. "Why are you so anxious… Why do you need to please my father so much?"

"Your father has threatened myself and my family. I don't have a choice. And besides…" He twirled his wand around with a hard expression on his face, like he was going insane. "Besides… I'm a Death Eater now. I live only to serve your father." He bid her goodnight and disappeared up the spiral staircase to the dormitories. Sharlen chucked a silver picture frame concealing a portrait of Salazar Slytherin at a window and broke it.


	2. The Sixth Year

The next morning Sharlen awoke at five o'clock and dressed. She'd worn a black tank top and plaid flannel pajama pants to bed and quickly stripped them off, dressing in her Hogwarts uniform as quietly as possible so as not to wake the other girls. She shared a room with Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Rachel Marino, and Stacey Davis. So far she had yet to meet any of them, but she'd heard of Pansy from Draco. She was his girlfriend, supposedly. She shook her head as she fell back onto her four-poster in an attempt to straighten her gray knee socks. She gave a frustrated sigh and paused a minute. She remembered the last time she'd tried these on; her father had wanted her to model her school clothes for him. She had reluctantly did so, knowing he would laugh, knowing he would be cruel. He'd made her turn, he'd made her walk, and Snape had just sat back and watched. After all, what could he have done, really? She was Voldemort's sole creation, his daughter. She had no mother and so, belonging to only him, she could only do as he told her.

She finally pushed the stockings down so they bunched around her ankles. She rolled up her white shirt sleeves to her elbows, unbuttoned the two top buttons, and rolled up the waist of her skirt, using the Slytherin tie they'd supplied her with as a belt.

Screw uniforms. She was only here for one thing. Sharlen abandoned her Hogwarts robes as well and swung her cloak over her shoulders. Her long black hair fell to her elbows, half over her shoulders and half behind. She wore the Mary Janes like a good little girl; they should at least be happy about that.

Before leaving Sharlen quickly turned to grab her little black book, but to her surprise she saw another girl sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through it. "It's so full, God, how long have you had this…?"

"Don't read that! No!" She quickly reached out to snatch it back but she accidentally brushed her hand against the girl's. She recoiled, bending almost double and closing her eyes tightly, blocking her ears. "No!" she cried out again. She saw the girl kneeling by a grave, no older than 14 by the looks of it, tears rolling down her cheeks as she placed a wire cage before it. The name on the gravestone was James Davis. The date told her he had been only 13 when he died.

Sharlen straightened up, breathing hard and staring at the girl. Her eyes were wide and she had dropped the book beside her, half way through reaching to her as though unsure if she should have touched her or not. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, sitting on her knees.

"Was he your brother?" Sharlen asked. Stacey cocked her head to one side with overly-innocent curiosity.

"My brother?"

"The boy who died a few years ago. James."

Stacey smiled cutely. "Yep. He was my twin brother, James Matthew Davis. But, how did you know…?"

"Lucky guess," she muttered, snatching the book and exiting the dorm.

"Hey, it's too early, you have a few more hours to sleep…!"

"I'll be back," Sharlen muttered, closing the door behind her.

Who did that girl think she was, going through her stuff? She shook her head and tucked the book into the waist of her skirt and set off out of Slytherin Common Room and toward the dungeons. Destination: Snape's office.

Snape was an early riser by nature, so she knew he'd be awake by then. She rapped her knuckles against the black wood door and listened. "Who is it?" he muttered from within.

"It's me," she answered. "Let me in."

"Don't have much choice now do I…" he sounded agitated, far away.

Sharlen slowly opened the door and looked in. "Master Severus?..." She didn't often call him that anymore, not even at home; she'd taken to calling him just plain old Snape around the house when her father had returned. "Master Severus?" she called again.

"What is it Sharlen?" he asked, coming around the corner suddenly. He glanced her up and down. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"The Hogwarts uniform," she muttered, annoyed.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Must you make things difficult?"

"You aren't the boss of me now that dad's back, so shut up."

"Don't talk that way with me, Sharlen," he warned coldly. "Even if I'm no longer your guardian I'm still your Professor."

"Yeah, how nice for you," she muttered, sitting down at his desk. She played with a strand of her hair absently and waited for a speech.

"Look, I went through a lot fooling Dumbledore into letting you attend here. It was harder getting him to trust you now that your father is back in power. The least you can do is buy into this little scam as you were trained. Don't act so ungrateful."

"I'm surprised anyone would buy that _you_ would want to become the guardian of a student," she hissed, looking him up and down as well. "Then again with your reputation you probably put yourself in quite a fix, seeing as said student _is_ the spawn of Voldemort…"

"What do you want?" he asked hurriedly, more gently so as to coax her not to say her father's name again.

"To fly to classes and have permission to skip meals in the Great Hall."

"Out of the question," he muttered instantly. He went back to shuffling papers and moving around bottles of potions and ingredients.

"Why?"

"Use your common sense you wretched girl," he hissed, turning back to face her. "You're the daughter of Dark Lord. All the staff knows it and, despite what Dumbledore thinks or says they'll all be keeping an eye on you. Lupin is reluctant to leave the two of us alone as it is, just imagine how suspicious they'll become if you start avoiding meals and flying around the school as an animal." His aura burned a dark, dark gray and faded to brown. He was pissed. He was stressed. Rattled. "We're trying to hide your parental origin from your fellow students. You must be inconspicuous you stupid, stupid girl."

Sharlen stood slowly, her eyes narrowed to fit her normal frown. She knew how to handle Snape. "Oh yes, and me fainting from emotional overloads in the middle of breakfast or break isn't conspicuous, not at all."

Snape sat there baring his teeth at her in a snarl for a few moments before turning from her once again. "I'll alert the other teachers of your needs," he muttered as a dismissal. Sharlen smirked slightly, peeled off a twinkling star sticker, and stuck it to his long, hooked nose before departing.

"There's a good little bitch boy…" Sharlen muttered to no one as she made her way back to the Slytherin Common Room. She was only a floor away when she ran into Lupin coming out of his office. He looked semi-surprised to see her up so early.

He looked a little tired. "Miss Down, fancy seeing you at this hour," he mumbled as he tried to stop a yawn. "What are you, an insomniac?"

"Insomniacs don't get any sleep at all. I actually got more than I needed last night."

Lupin stared at her a moment longer and then shook his head. "I'll believe it. So, why are you out and about so early, then? It really is much too early for you to be wandering around."

Sharlen's eyes flashed. "Wreaking havoc and cursing early-rising staff members." Lupin blinked and she walked past him, clutching her book and looking at the ground. She heard him walk off in the direction she had come, probably to get some potion from Snape. How screwed would they have been if he'd overheard their conversation…?

She wouldn't worry about it. Now all she had to worry about, what with her requests answered and taken care of, was finding him and helping him.

Stacey Davis was waiting for her when she returned to the dorm. "Oh, there you are," she exclaimed when she swept back in, "I was worried about you!"

Sharlen narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why?"

"Oh, I dunno, it's just you only enrolled yesterday and it's a big castle and all and you don't know anyone and you seemed to be in a lot of pain when you left and I wanted to apologi-"

Sharlen closed her eyes just as pillow flew up and hit the girl in the head to shut her up. "Take a breath, damn."

"I'm sorry… I tend to talk fast…" She shrugged to show that she really hadn't known she'd been doing it. "Hey, wait a minute, how did you…?"

"Telekinesis," Sharlen muttered simply.

"Oh wow!" Stacey bounced up on her bed and followed Sharlen as she crossed the room to her corner. "That's amazing! You mean you can move things with your mind? God, how cool is that, does it work with spells too? I've been asking around for a while and we're scheduled to start learning how to cast spells without saying a word this year and-" Sharlen glared at her. "I'm sorry. I'm doing it again aren't I?"

"Actually, the only way I can cast spells is through my mind," she answered softly. "I can do any wand spell you can, it's just that I've never been able to handle a wand. I haven't had any control over any wand I've ever tried." She turned away as though to close the discussion, but Stacey exploded.

"OH MY GOD, HOW COOL IS THAT?!" she screamed. Sharlen jumped away, eyes wide and bracing herself, not expecting the outburst. She glanced over at the other three girls and noticed that they were all wearing earmuffs that read 'Property of Professor Sprout' on them; they were undoubtedly stolen from the stock used when handling Mandrakes. They didn't even flinch in their sleep, obviously used to living with Stacey by then.

"Shut up, will you?" Sharlen hissed. "You're going to wake up the whole tower for christ's sake…"

Stacey covered her mouth to emphasize her apology. "I'm really, really sorry," she mumbled through her hands. Her aura glowed bright orange with an over abundance of energy, not the same orange of the girls she'd met the previous night. "I get a little eccentric sometimes."

"A little?" Sharlen asked, quiet enough so she couldn't hear.

"Anyway, that really is something. You're already ahead of our whole year then I'll bet, even Hermione Granger!" Stacey smiled cutely, brimming with a friendly pink aura, the orange melting in a brilliant emerald. "I was just waiting up for you so I could apologize for reading your diary. I just got a little over curious, I'm so sorry."

It took a minute for her to figure out what she meant by diary. Sharlen was about to scold her for that but decided she didn't care enough to. No damage had been done, after all. She nodded and turned to leave the room.

"Wait, I've been meaning to ask you, too…" Sharlen turned back to the girl, the light blue of confusion swirling in her pink aura like cotton candy although the emerald told her she was still in a tranquil state. "I wanted to ask how you knew… how you knew about my brother."

Sharlen sat back down on her bed and prepared her answer. "Have you ever heard of a sixth sense?" Stacey nodded.

"That's like, sensing ghosts and stuff, right?"

"Don't talk, just listen." Stacey nodded. "I possess a version of the sixth sense. I can't sense ghosts or anything like that, ghosts aren't very hard to find. If I touch someone, skin to skin, I can see visions of their pasts or their futures. These visions don't have to be significant in anyway, or mean anything. I don't know why I saw you at your brother's grave; maybe it will be important someday or something, but when I tried to get my book back our hands touched and that's just what I saw. But, for what it's worth I could have also seen you brushing your teeth or eating breakfast or something."

"Or dying."

"Where did that come from?"

"You can see and predict deaths, right? If you can see futures…?"

Sharlen shook her head slowly. "I've only ever seen one death."

"That must be awful, knowing someone's about to die…"

"Actually, I've only ever predicted someone's death through a vision once, but I've read them several times, and I've witnessed it even more times."

Stacey stared. "What do you mean you read them? And how many people have you seen die? I can't imagine! Wait, I'm sorry, that was nosy… wow…"

Sharlen looked out the window. No, she couldn't imagine. She shouldn't have said anything. She had said too much. "By reading them I meant tarot," she explained briefly, standing again. Stacey watched her closely, but Sharlen said no more.

"Hold up and we'll catch an early breakfast, okay?" Stacey seemed so insistent, so excited by the idea that she was positively beaming. And the pale blue was gone; she wasn't going to badger her any further about her powers. "Just lemme get dressed…" Stacey rushed around putting on her uniform correctly, never asking about Sharlen's, minding her tastes.

"Why do you have Slytherin pajamas?" Sharlen asked absently, staring at the pile on the floor after she'd stripped.

"Oh, you like?" she squealed, struggling with her knee socks. "I made them myself! Here, check it out…" She reached for her wand on the bedside table and sang a spell Sharlen had actually never heard before. Then again, the way it had been sung had made it undistinguishable, anyway. The serpents on the Slytherin emblems, printed all over the gray flannels, began to wiggle and slither as though dancing. Stacey squealed with delight again and finished dancing. She grabbed her book bag – patched with mismatched pieces of quilt fabric – and the two left the dorm together. Stacey left the pajamas wiggling. "They tickle something terrible," she giggled.

"How did you end up in Slytherin?" Sharlen asked softly, watching her apply a glob of bubblegum lip gloss.

Stacey grinned at her and said, "I asked to be in Slytherin! The Sorting Hat suggested, more over urged, that I go to Hufflepuff, but I insisted on being a Slytherin."

"Why?"

"Because I love snakes, silly! The way they waggle their tongues to sniff is just adorable." She imitated a snake, sending herself in a small fit of giggles. Sharlen looked away, already feeling drained from her cheerfulness. A dark blue ring surrounded the outer edges of her figure, something she'd noticed had been there from the beginning; she was playful by nature.

"But… don't you get, I don't know… picked on?" Sharlen asked quietly. "Slytherins are known to be pretty mean. I can't really see how you've managed all these years."

Stacey beamed. "Hey, I know some people here who decided Houses by colors." She nodded for emphasize. "Charlotte O'Hara was supposed be a Gryffindor, loves gold and all that, but she's a Hufflepuff because she hates scarlet (rhymes with her name, you know) and yellow's close enough." Sharlen looked away to avoid showing Stacey the look of disgust and disbelief now playing on her face.

"Damn this thing," Stacey half-laughed, struggling with her tie. She'd tried to tighten it a little and had ended up almost strangling herself in those three seconds Sharlen had taken her eyes off her. Sharlen patiently tied it with her mind, not even glancing at the girl as they walked. "Thanks a lot," Stacey gasped.

"Not a problem."

Lupin walked past them, coming form the direction of the dungeons. He smiled and waved at them as he passed, but inside he was furious. His aura was the same charcoal shade Snape's had been earlier. "God, what's got him pissed…?" Sharlen wondered aloud yet to herself. Stacey's ears pricked up.

"What's that? He looked pretty cheerful…" she muttered, watching him walk back toward the general direction of his office. Sharlen shook her head slightly.

"No. His aura was a really dark gravel color... more brown than gray. The darker gray and brown shades mean anger and stress. The lighter hues mean peace of mind and calm, as do dark greens. All colors have two meanings and, depending on intensity and color, the feelings and emotions portrayed by the colors could be positive or negative."

"WHOA…" Stacey gasped, widening her eyes at Sharlen and staring. "You can see peoples' _auras_ too?!"

Sharlen sighed, exhaling slowly, trying to remain patient. She'd never really discussed this with anyone else before. Only… only him. Somehow, though, she knew Stacey wouldn't leave it alone. Somehow, she didn't mind; Stacey seemed genuinely harmless.

They sat down at Slytherin table to find that it wasn't too early after all; there were quite a few students already down there and even more filtering in slowly. The staff, or most of them, was already there; Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout for that matter. How long had they been talking in the dormitory? How long had she been in Snape's office? Surely those two conversations hadn't been much more than an hour… Sharlen shrugged it off and explained over Stacey's breakfast all about auras. She didn't eat but she did occasionally sip from a hip flask she kept on the inside of the waist of her skirt, almost nervously as the hall continued to fill.

"Well, what's mine look like?" Stacey prodded, her eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. The entire school had shown up by then for breakfast. "I've heard auras can consist of several colors, like one main color tinged by another color and the colors represent emotion. Is mine red and orange, like a flame? Blue and white like a crashing wave? What's it look like? Huh? Huh? What're my colors?"

"They're called bands of color, and you actually remind me of a watermelon." Sharlen closed her eyes and took a sip from her hip flask, swishing the drink around in her mouth before swallowing. It was a potion Snape had been making for her for as long as she could remember. She wasn't completely sure what it was or what it contained, but if she went too long without drinking some of it, she began to lose consciousness.

Stacey's eyes widened and her face turned horrified. "Why would you say such a thing?!" she exclaimed, frantically looking down at herself. She pulled at her nonexistent belly flub. "What, am I round or something?"

For whatever reason Sharlen actually laughed at that. Snape blanched up at the staff table; he'd been watching her like a hawk the entire time he'd been there, since he hadn't expected to see her at all. He saw her laughing, covering her mouth as though trying to hide it, and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. Lupin stared a little as well but then he smiled. "Looks like she's found a friend," he mused. Snape just glared at her.

Sharlen explained to Stacey that her main color, which was actually her second band, was pink for friendship and love and her tingeing color, her accent, her third band was dark green, like the skin of a healthy watermelon, which demonstrated her calm and tranquil nature. She informed her that she was rimmed physically with a thin shade of blue to show her jubilance, her euphoric persona. Stacey laughed at her mistake. Sharlen just smiled absently at her empty plate.

She wasn't allowed to make friends. When her father had allowed Snape to enroll her at Hogwarts at last she'd been warned not to make friends. Screw Voldemort, then. It's not like she had meant to meet this Stacey Davis. It had just happened.

Stacey stuck something to Sharlen's nose, making her jump. She peeled it off; a purple polka dot sticker. She stared in disbelief at the grinning girl who stood and pulled her bag over her shoulder. "Buck up, girly. C'mon, let's get to class early so we can talk. It's too noisy in here."

Sharlen glanced up at the staff table. Well, if they left early she wouldn't have to transform. She got up from the table without a word and the two girls exited the Great Hall.

She still hadn't seen him. Had he skipped breakfast?

A black and red blur raced past the two Slytherin girls in the direction of the Great Hall. "Hurry, we're gonna miss out! I'm starving!"

"I can't believe your stomach failed to wake you up, Ron."

"My stomach's so used to Hermione's wake up call by now that it's gotten lazy, I'm sorry." The two boys disappeared to get breakfast the next second. The girls blinked, but then Stacey laughed.

"The gruesome twosome." She laughed it off and started toward their first class, Care of Magical Creatures. She held the door open for Sharlen but she was still rooted to the spot. "Sharlen? What's wrong?"

That second voice had been familiar. Too familiar. "It's nothing." She followed Stacey out onto the grounds.

Sharlen hadn't seen him in the Care of Magic Creatures class, either. '_He must not be taking this class this year_,' she thought sadly. '_I must have at least one class with him…_'

She thought about that hard. Maybe their schedules had been arranged so the two would never meet? It would make sense; being who they were it was basic instinct to keep the spawn of the Dark Lord as far away from him as possible.

She would kill that Snape if such was the case. Kill him dead.

For their first lesson of the year, Professor Hagrid brought back the Nifflers, to see if they could recall them from their fourth year. "I don' spect yer ter know 'bout 'em," he said to Sharlen, who looked up at him through her hair placidly. She knew he, of all the teachers, was the most frightened of her, as he was so devoted to Dumbledore and Sharlen's father was his arch nemesis.

"I've read a bit about Nifflers," she assured him, as the herd of them bounded toward her. A Gryffindor by the name of Lavender had been instructed to release the Nifflers from their crates so everyone in the class could pick one, but as soon as they were set free they all sprang toward Sharlen.

Sharlen turned a sharp eye toward them and the Nifflers stopped instinctively, each of them sitting down in turn, tails wagging like mad, shovel-like noses sniffing anxiously. Hagrid looked from her to the Nifflers, thoroughly bemused and scared. The rest of the class just stared at her openly. Sharlen bent down and extended her hands to the closest Nifflers, patting them on the head as she muttered, "Few people know that Nifflers, while notorious treasure hunters, are also instinctively drawn toward treasure in people." She paused her speech as she pet, sadly muttering, "'Treasures' such as power and ambition…"

Sharlen and Stacey were the first to leave when the bell rang up at the castle, signaling the end of the lesson. She heard heavy footfalls behind her and knew it to be the teacher, Professor Hagrid. "Wait!" he called, reaching for her shoulder to stop her. She mentally slapped his hand away and he recoiled. "Ouch! What the…"

"Hands off, please," she muttered darkly, turning to face him. "What is it Professor?"

"You, er… You'd forgot yer book s'all…" he handed it to her and she gingerly took it from him, making sure not to touch him. So as not to offend him she mustered up a smile; it would be smarter to keep the teachers on a good side. "Thank you Professor. Intriguing lesson, by the way." She then took off with Stacey at her heels.

"You're so cute when you smile!" Stacey gushed, pulling her in for a hug. The cloak protected her for the most part but Sharlen craned her neck away to avoid cheek-to-cheek contact.

"Remember, no touching."

Stacey jumped a foot away, laughing innocently. "Sorry, sorry, I'd forgotten. I'm a very touchy-feely person. This will certainly be a challenge!" She struck a pose with her fists on her hips, determined. Sharlen kept walking.

"My schedule's almost exactly the same as yours!" Stacey exclaimed on the walked to their next destination, Charms. From the moment they stepped back into the castle it was an instant headache for Sharlen. She left Stacey to continue comparing their schedules and snuck off while she wasn't looking. She fled to the nearest bathroom, transformed, and soared out of the window. She had to get to Flitwick's class early anyway; her whole 'no wand' situation was definitely something he had to be briefed on.

She was just recollecting on how easily she'd been able to slip away from Stacey, like smoke, when she found the correct window. Sharlen swooped in, crying to gather his attention. The professor, whom she assumed was the small man standing on the pile of books behind the desk, nearly toppled over in surprise. He gripped the edge of his desk to regain balance, scooting forward to straighten the book pile. He adjusted his glasses with a sigh and looked around the find her perched upon his desk lamp. He smiled. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in here? You ought to be in the Owlery sleeping about this time…" He looked around a bit for a letter curiously.

Sharlen clicked her beak at him and transformed back into her body. This time Professor Flitwick really did topple over, this time to the side, and the pile of heavy books followed him. Sharlen stopped the books before they crushed his small form and piled them back neatly with her mind. She barely moved, or blinked. "Are you okay?" she asked, the intensity of the question small in her voice.

Professor Flitwick straightened himself up but did not answer. He was probably about to, but Sharlen kept talking. "Are you Professor Flitwick?" she asked. She had been asked to attend a meeting with all the teachers after her request to attend Hogwarts had been granted, but she had refused. She assumed there would be a lot of questions she would be expected to answer, and she hadn't wanted that, so at that expense she would risk meeting the teachers for the first time at the start of term and a few minutes under the Cruciatus Curse from Snape. She didn't care. Anything to avoid questions about her past and parentage. They undoubtedly knew already that she was a creation via Dumbledore, anyway. He nodded.

"You gave me quite a fright, my dear," he told her honestly, smiling nervously. "Am I to assume you're, erm… Sharlen Down?" Sharlen nodded, unsurprised he had figured it out; how many students were Animagi? She could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Strange last name…" but she left it alone. It was a mystery to everyone, including herself, and it was better not to confront.

"Well, you know, you're early…" Professor Flitwick muttered, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. His aura gave him away easily, but even if she was ignorant to the colors of his truths they were obvious by themselves; he'd begun to sweat slightly and his forehead began to glisten. Instantly she was annoyed. Everyone gave her this reaction, because of who she was, because of who her father was. She was not him. Why was everyone so quick to assume?

"I'm not here to attack you, so you can relax," she muttered. Professor Flitwick's eyes widened; had he detected the pain in her voice? His eyes softened.

"Of course not, dear… What can I help you with?"

"I just wanted to come by early and fill you in on some things."

Professor Flitwick nodded, used his wand to add another book to the top of the pile, and began to clamber up. Sharlen assisted him, merely blinking as she set him on top of the pile. He smiled at her, a real smile. "My, my, that's nifty."

"Indeed, telekinesis has its uses," she agreed. She sat down at the front desk and began to explain about her mind powers, her telekinesis, and her wordless spell casting. He actually seemed impressed and, just as Stacey had said, claimed she was already ahead of her whole year. "You'll give Hermione Granger a run for her money, no doubt about it," he gushed.

"Hermione Granger?" Sharlen muttered absently. She didn't really care who the girl was, to be truthful, but decided it would make for more normal conversation to be inquisitive about it.

"Yes. A Gryffindor."

Sharlen froze. Did she know him well? "Well, I'm sure I'll meet her sometime. Also, I just wanted to warn you that I should be coming to class early everyday; I've already cleared it with Sever-" She caught herself. "Professor Snape already approved of it and said he'd alert the other teachers." She explained the aura situation to him just before the other Slytherin students began to filter in, joined with various Ravenclaws. She glanced back at them wearily.

Professor Flitwick nodded to her. "You'll be quite the student," he told her. She curled up one corner of her mouth briefly before pulling out her books.

Someone ran up and hugged her from behind. "I… WAS… SO… WORRRRRIIIIED!" came Stacey's voice loud in her ear.

Sharlen quickly fidgeted out of the embrace and scowled. "I'm not an invalid," she hissed. "I knew my way alright."

"I know, but you just disappeared so quickly!" she exclaimed, hurriedly sticking a sticker onto her own forehead to apparently calm herself. "Here's your schedule back, by the way."

"Keep it. I've already got it memorized." Stacey stared a moment then smiled politely and tossed it in the trash before taking a seat beside her.

"Hey, Rachelle, over here!" Stacey called, waving over a Ravenclaw. She skipped over from a group of girls she'd been talking to. "Sharlen, this is my friend Rachelle. She sat with me in Charms last year, too." Sharlen nodded and looked away as Rachelle took a seat next to Stacey. She didn't need two friends. She realized the mistake she'd made opening up to someone.

And all the while Draco watched her with a smirk. She felt she could have died, or at least dissolved, from the attention.

After Charms, Stacey made her way to the back of the room with a group of Ravenclaw girls, laughing about their lesson. "C'mon Sharlen, we're all heading to Divination next!" she beckoned, waving her over. Sharlen secured her bag around her neck and over one shoulder and shook her head. "I can't travel in a group like that. I'll explain later." She transformed the next second, causing gasps and small words of awe, and soared out the open window. She would explain later, maybe. It would help to avoid suspicion, and too much company.

Then again, having someone to talk to had been… well… fun. And she could have used her help in the search, which was for sure. But she would manage alone. She always did.

Divination had been the class Sharlen had been looking forward to the most, anyway. She'd rather just enjoy the class in silence, in peace, in thought and concentration. Divination was her strength—when her father created her, it was important to him that she have clairvoyant abilities. He took prophecies very seriously. She would show everyone that she was not some charity case.

Professor Trelawny was waiting for her when she came through the open window. She was bent over a crystal ball, enormously magnified eyes closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. The main color of her aura was yellow, something Sharlen had expected; the art of Divination required confidence in the natural spirits and the communication of mind and body. You needed that confidence to produce insight. She was also very calm, Sharlen noted, as she looked up without surprise. "I saw you coming."

"I see." Indeed, she did not see; she'd never used a crystal ball. She'd never desired or needed to. But, perhaps now, through this hippie guide, she would learn that kind of insight.

Professor Trelawny stood hypnotically from her little chintz chair, but her bad eyesight neglected to warn her that she was not yet out of the way of the little table and the crystal ball toppled to the floor. Sharlen caught it before it smashed, her face patient as she set it back on the table. Professor Trelawny nodded as though she'd foreseen that too. If she had, why hadn't she been more careful about the table? Had she been meaning to test her? "Yes, I did a reading about you earlier and it told me your mind had already been broadened, your Seeing Eye able and willing, but to witness this myself I must tell you, my dear, I am truly impressed. Finally, a student truly possessing the sight."

"A reading? You mean tarot?" Sharlen asked excitedly. She checked herself. No, it couldn't have been tarot; she would have had to be there for the reading to be accurate. So, what…?

"No," Professor Trelawny said, shaking her head with a smile. "Tea leaves."

Sharlen almost burst into laughter. How utterly ridiculous. Professor Trelawny saw the amusement on her face and sighed. "You apparently have a lot to learn if you can't respect the noble art of reading tea leaves."

"You have a lot to learn as well if you let dregs and spoils convince you of what's to come." Professor Trelawny's lip twitched and the colors around her dimmed and faded to a dark gray. She was tense, not necessarily angry, but felt challenged and threatened. Sharlen hadn't meant to challenge her, but, she sighed and let it go. If it was that easy to demolish her confidence then it was obvious this class would not be what she expected. She was instructed to sit and did so without delay.


	3. The Old Friends

The rest of her morning classes came and went without much notice and Sharlen still hadn't seen him. She passed lunch period in the Owlery, trying to come up with tactics. How was she ever going to find him? If they didn't have any classes… After four had passed she was beginning to doubt that they would; why would Gryffindors and Slytherins have classes together, anyway? They'd been with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, sure, but putting rivals together was just asking for trouble. What teacher really felt like dealing with that?

She had double potions next. But with who? Maybe the Ravenclaws again. Sighing she spread her wings and headed for the dungeons.

Snape was expecting her. He was leaning against his desk, facing the window, and barely flinched when she came through. He held up his arm to her and she gave a little shriek of insult; he only ever had her perch on his arm when he wanted her to know he had orders she was to follow. Sharlen transformed in midair right before him and scowled something awful. "Don't you ever, ever, hold your arm to me again. Those days are over."

Snape shrugged, took her by the shoulder, and forced her into the nearest seat. He leaned over her, his nose an inch from hers, his teeth bared in either a smirk or a strict frown; he was too close for her to be able to tell which. "What the hell are you doing-?"

"Quiet," he demanded. Sharlen leaned back slightly and stared. That wasn't his voice. "Now listen to me, Sharlen, I have orders for you."

It was her father.

Speaking through Snape.

"Father..." she muttered, in awe. Was this possible? "This isn't safe for you!"

"I'll risk it. Now, listen closely."

"Father, we've discussed this. You agreed that my part was done."

Snape laughed. "Sure I did, but I'm the authority figure here, and I've changed my mind." Sharlen glared but she didn't say anything. She'd simply take it into account and say no more about it. "Now, Snape tells me you've made some friends already."

Sharlen looked away. "Not really…"

"Don't lie to me."

"There was just some girl I was talking to, alright?"

"Just be careful what you say. Remember, all those at Hogwarts are against us, except the Malfoy boy. The only person I want you talking to is him, is that understood?" Sharlen made to object or complain, but he silenced her.

"But father, what if I just watched what I said? Didn't say anything about my origin or… anything? I don't exactly plan on shouting it for all to hear…"

"Have you already told her about your powers and such?"

"Enough about them… just the generals, though…"

"So be it, but no one else, is that clear?"

"Yes, father."

Snape gripped slightly harder but his expression didn't change; no muscle in his face shifted or twitched, not in the slightest. He tilted her chin up closer to him. "Good old Severus here also tells me of your plans for your old friend, Sharlen."

Sharlen's eyes widened momentarily but she quickly narrowed them again. "Father… I just…"

Snape laughed in her face, hard and loud. Still, Sharlen went on. "I know you and him… and me, I… He deserves to know!"

"Go ahead and tell him, my girl," he said sadistically, his hands in her hair and stroking her cheek, wiping away nonexistent tears. She was backed up as far as possible from him, right against the back of her chair and slouched slightly, but he'd followed her, never increasing or decreasing the distance between their bodies. "You just be ready for disappointment. You said you wouldn't help me, but if you tell him it will destroy him."

Sharlen considered this as Snape backed off. He turned his back on her and turned around the next second, glaring. "Remember what he said."

"Master Severus?"

"Who else you stupid girl? Be quiet and ready your things." Students began to enter the dungeon, first only Slytherins, but then she saw out of the corner of her eye a few students she'd yet to see. Gryffindors. Her heart stopped momentarily. He'd be in this class. There was no doubt in her mind.

Predicting he'd be closer to the back of the room Sharlen stood and gathered her things with intentions to move, but Snape hissed, "You're fine where you are, Miss Down."

Why was Snape protecting him? He'd heard what Voldemort had said… Shouldn't they both be encouraging her to talk to him, to tell him?

Or was he… protecting _her_?

Stacy came in and stood beside her, smiling. Sharlen couldn't smile. "I saved you some lunch!"

"That's okay, I caught a rat a little while ago. But thank you." She was focusing on the door; if he just got a good look at her, maybe he'd remember, and try and find_ her_ later. Or maybe he'd just think he was hallucinating. Whatever happened, she would have to risk it.

Sharlen soon found that drawing attention to herself wasn't going to be hard. All the Gryffindors that spotted her began whispering behind their hands, eyes darting away when she made contact. Why, she thought, would he be any different? She tried to be casual, realizing that she didn't know how.

Snape was glaring at her. He wanted her to face front but to say anything would have just drawn more attention to her which was the last thing he wanted to do. "Sharlen," he hissed in a whisper. She pretended she couldn't hear.

Almost last minute three Gryffindors walked in. First was a girl with bushy brown hair. Just the way she carried herself was obnoxiously snobby. Then was a tall and slender redhead with a round-ish face and a few freckles, followed by… Sharlen felt her heart rise up into her throat and had severe difficulty swallowing it back into position. It was him.

Harry Potter.

"Class has begun, everyone eyes front," Snape said from the front. Everyone obeyed, as did Sharlen, although she was reluctant to tear her eyes away from him. He hadn't seen her. But, Snape couldn't do it forever. If they had this class together everyday then he was going to see her. Eventually.

Half way through the class Snape began to space out. When calling on students to answer his near impossible questions Sharlen almost always raised her hand, determined that if he would just say her name out loud he would remember her… even if vaguely, she would have his attention and could work more on him later. Snape had deliberately ignored her up 'til that point, but, much to his dismay, he momentarily forgot. "Sharlen?"

Harry was at an angle from her in the back, so she could easily see him by glancing over her shoulder. She hadn't been able to get his attention before, but after hearing her name he perked up and looked around. He spotted her, and Snape paled at the recognition of his mistake. Harry stared, and Sharlen held his gaze for a few moments before calmly answering Snape's question. For the remainder of the double period Sharlen sat, smirking and content, knowing step one was done. Harry's eyes went to her every few minutes as though he were trying to be conspicuous around his friends, but she knew he was remembering. His aura was a pale blue and deep red for confusion and reverie.

There was a tinge of purple; nostalgia. As she swept out the dungeon after Potions, she was giddy.

Sharlen stalled in the hall, pretending to be looking for her schedule, so she could wait and see if he approached her. He came out of the classroom between two other Gryffindors who she had discovered to be Hermione Granger, the one Flitwick had mentioned, and Ron Weasley. He glanced over as though considering it, but Snape beckoned her over before he got a chance. His friends ushered him away. Discouraged but not defeated Sharlen walked right by Snape and transformed to get to her next and last class to spite him, to show him who was boss.

Harry had seen her transform. "Did you two see that?!"

"See what?"

"That girl Sharlen is an Animagus, I just saw her transform."

"Bet she was a raven, or a bat," Ron chuckled. He nudged Harry a few times. "Well? Am I right?"

Harry shook his head. "She could have been Hedwig's twin."

"Just forget about her," Hermione advised, briskly walking ahead of them. "We have Defense next."

So, apparently, did Sharlen. By the time they got up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom Sharlen was already in a seat by the window, jotting something down in her little black book. She looked up at them and smiled at Harry, feeling her heart begin to race. He'd really gotten tall, and he had just the right amount of muscle, although he was still very thin… He was always a small boy. She was almost positive that every hair was in the exact same positioning as it had been the last time she saw him.

Snape had almost gotten the Defense Against the Dark Arts job for that year, but, Lupin had decided to come back at the last second and Dumbledore welcomed him graciously. Many parents had strongly disagreed with this decision; with Voldemort's uprising their trust in half-breeds and creatures was scarcer than ever, but, per Dumbledore's insistence Remus Lupin was back on the job. The trio of Gryffindors warily went over to greet Lupin so as to avoid Sharlen. Harry seemed reluctant, but he went with Ron and Hermione. Sharlen had heard he was good friends with Lupin, anyway. "Welcome back," he greeted the old wolf with a grin. Lupin glanced at Sharlen. She looked away.

"It's good to see you Harry," Lupin said with a smile, merely glancing at him before his eyes flew back over to Sharlen. She met his gaze, blinked once, and in the time it took for her to blink a rainbow sticker flew onto the tip of his nose. The Gryffindors stared, first at Lupin, and then to Sharlen, but she'd already turned away again. "Don't worry about her," Lupin excused with a small laugh to brush it aside, "that's just what she does. I'll never understand it. Most of us won't."

"What's her deal?" Hermione asked in an undertone. Sharlen pretended she couldn't hear. "Professor Flitwick was practically raving about her, and she and Snape have some undeniable chemistry between them."

"Yeah," Ron chipped in, avoiding glancing at her, "what's her deal?"

"Now's not the time to be discussing this," Lupin muttered, clearing his throat.

"Hey, long time no see!" Sharlen groaned; her eavesdropping was instantly over. She turned her head and spotted Stacy approaching. She tucked her book away as Stacy sat beside her. Lupin and the trio were watching, despite themselves.

"It's only been two periods," Sharlen muttered, watching her unpack.

"Three," Stacy corrected. Sharlen thought a moment.

"But… in Potions…"

"I don't take Potions," Stacy informed her, sticking a 'You're Sweet!' sticker on her cheek. Sharlen peeled it off calmly as she explained. "See, you skipped lunch, and I knew you had Potions so I stopped by to drop something off, but you said you'd… already eaten… in a way, so, I left to go to my Muggle Studies class."

"I didn't notice, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, you seemed kind of preoccupied." Sharlen saw the trio seat themselves in the front of the room. Every once in a while they would glance at her and try not to laugh, or Ron would anyway. "Sticker sisters, I guess," he'd giggled.

Of course, Draco also had this class with them. He made his grand entrance with his cronies flanking in his wake and swept down to kiss her on the cheek. To avoid the contact Sharlen shifted slightly and caught it on her fully-covered shoulder. Draco ruffled her hair to hide his disappointment; Pansy looked as though ready to spit fire at her.

"Looks like she's been adopted by Malfoy's crew already," Ron muttered in an undertone. "It's too bad, she's a looker."

"Oh Ron, honestly…" Hermione scolded, huffily taking out her books and quill. "Look at her outfit; she obviously just aiming for attention."

"You just don't like her because she beat you out for Flitwick's favorite," Ron teased. Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly in outrage.

"I don't trust her, not one bit! She's just too shady for my liking, that's all," she protested. "You saw what happened with her sorting…"

"I know her," Harry interrupted after a while. He'd been observing her from afar, and, even though he'd never admit where he knew her from, he knew she had to be the same person. "I know I know her."

"But… from where?"

"I don't know," Harry lied. Maybe he'd tell them later. For now he would simply puzzle upon why all the others could see her… and why she waited so long to come back into his life. Ron and Hermione shared a worried glance and turned their attentions to the lesson. Harry was lost in his memories; memories of his first true friend.

"Don't quit your day job Sharlen, I think you've actually struck a nerve," Draco hollered as Defense let out. Sharlen twitched her expression into a glare; Stacy stared between the two, wondering what was up. Malfoy had spent almost the whole class watching Harry in his struggles to remember pieces of his past and link them to the gloomy Slytherin sitting a few rows behind him. Infuriating as it was to know she hadn't given up, it was also laughable that her determination had gone so far as to gain his attentions.

"That's enough, Malfoy," Lupin called after the group of Slytherins.

"Shove off, both of you," Sharlen hissed. Lupin looked perplexed; he'd been trying to assist her. He found it to have been a very charitable move.

"Sharlen," Stacy whispered, "What was Draco talking about?"

"I'll tell you later," Sharlen muttered. The Gryffindors were following them down to the Hall and separating onto a higher staircase to drop off their books and such to take a break before dinner. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had stopped at the base of the staircase to watch after them for a moment. Sharlen mumbled something about meeting Stacy down by the lake and flew off as an owl, swerving around the heads of the Gryffindor trio as she exited the castle once again.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I can't tell if she's showing off or..."

"Oh come off it," Ron begged her. "She's not bothering anyone, so let's just leave her be. Let's go pay Hagrid a visit, shall we?"

Harry nodded his agreement but Hermione shook her head and took off up the stairs. "I'll be down in a minute; you two go ahead without me." The boys shrugged in brief confusion before molding into the crowd of students heading to the Common Room.

Hagrid had a thing or two to say about Sharlen as well when Ron brought her up, or rather he had quite a few things to say about her that he had to try very hard not to say. "She just, er… 'er fam… she comes from… Well, she's dif'ernt, ain't she?" He sighed, frustrated, as Harry and Ron looked up at him expectantly. "Look, I'm not at liberty to say anythin' to yer about her. None of the teachers are. She's just… you'll have to look out for 'er."

Sharlen sang to the birds in the Owlery, gazing out at the grounds as it surpassed midnight. Singing and humming to herself was just a hobby that had come to her aid on all those lazy afternoons where it was just her and Master Severus. He'd never complained, so she'd never really thought twice about it. She'd been exposed to several different types of music when she was in grade school with Draco. Peter Pettigrew, whom Snape was smuggling in their basement, had actually applauded her once. She'd struck him, confused, thinking he was having a fit or something.

She'd snuck down to the Owlery every night those first five days at Hogwarts. It was all a matter of tricking Malfoy; as long as he saw her enter her dormitory he would give Snape the report that she was asleep and secure, leaving her free to roam. She didn't roam, however. She'd made friends with the owls, and they seemed to enjoy her company. Then again, any visitor who didn't expect them to make a delivery was. She also helped them to catch the craftier mice, which had earned her major points in popularity.

Harry had not yet approached her. She knew it would take time; it was what she had been expecting. He would see her conversing with other students, see her transform, hear the rumors, and eventually get curious enough to make an inquiry. He'd always been curious and investigative. He might get some opinions first, but surely his mind had been made up with that first wave of remembrance. Sharlen closed her eyes.

Was he thinking about her? Surely she had given him time… It was already the weekend, their first weekend. Or maybe he thought it was all a dream. They'd once discussed long ago when everything was still pure, why she was only visible to him. She flipped to the page in her book where she'd recorded the memory. She closed her eyes, feeling the memory.

_"But, Sharlen… why can't they see you?"_

_"Only you can see me, Harry," she explained softly. "I'm your special friend only. I don't want anybody else." _

_Harry grinned at her and nodded once, with meaning. "Me either."_

She had caused him so many problems… that had been the aim of her father when he'd ordered her to be his 'imaginary friend.' Snape had cast a spell on her so that only Harry could see her, and she played the part for years. Torment from his aunt and uncle, and that fat, obnoxious cousin of his. And who could forget the time Dudley's gang went after him? She'd protected him, of course, but he'd been punished for it. Once he had said he wanted her to disappear. He'd gotten his wish. Her father had demanded she leave him be, completely alone, ridden with guilt. At the time her father was still weak and body-less, so mind games seemed to be the only way he could get to his main target, and he did so through his daughter.

Sharlen buried her head in her hands momentarily before hopping down from her seat on the window ledge. Harry would forgive her after she explained everything. She brushed the hay from her body and went to the door, deciding it was time to get back to the dormitory. The owls hooted loudly in protest as she placed her hand on the door handle. She took a step back from the door and hushed them quietly. "Alright, one more song." She slumped to the floor and sang quietly.


	4. The Little Black Book

Harry sat, lost in thought, sitting at the window seat in his dorm. Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were fast asleep in this midnight hour, and the background of their breathing, unmelodious as it was, wasn't helping to soothe him into slumber in the least. His mind was muddled in thoughts of the past and present, all surrounding Sharlen Down. Thoughts of her younger self in relation to her current state, visions of her conversing to students in class and being called on by teachers, visions of his aunt and uncle laughing at his mere suggestion that she existed, all followed each other around in his head like a game of tag.

He hadn't had a chance to talk to her yet. Ron and Hermione seemed to be against the idea. Hermione insisted there was something about her she simply 'didn't like,' and Ron was firmly against going anywhere near 'Draco's girl;' he hadn't minded her at first but lately Draco had been her constant shadow, either him or Snape. And all three of them wanted to avoid Snape at all costs, despite his involvement in The Order.

Vaguely he wondered why the teachers seemed so interested in her, why they kept her so distant from the other students. Professors McGonagall and Sinistra always kept her in the back of the class, and Trelawny too from what he'd heard from Patima Patil. When he'd asked her about it she'd seemed kind of flustered. "That girl's really, really strange. Dear Professor Trelawny doesn't seem to like her very much at all. Her mere stare seems to intimidate the Professor. Whenever she glances over to Sharlen's corner she always gets all flustered and drops something. Professor Trelawny's predicted her death three times, but Sharlen's also predicted the Professor's. We don't know if she's serious." Patima had shaken her head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Every time the Professor touches her hand Sharlen looks up at her angrily and asks her something about her past. Something _true_. It's like when they touch, she can see snatches of Trelawny's past. Just yesterday she asked the Professor what was the name of the dog she saw get hit by a car when she was eight. She nearly fainted."

Without a sound Harry dressed and swung the Invisibility cloak over his head. He took off toward the Owlery; he'd write her a letter. First he'd need to find Hedwig.

Sharlen stopped her voice mid note as a gasp escaped her lips instead. Someone was opening the door. She transformed and flew up to a perch beside a few other snowy owls and settled in to watch, ruffling her wings around as the others owls were at the sudden cease in song. However, the door seemed to open and shut all by itself. Sharlen sat puzzled for but a moment before Harry Potter appeared out of thin air. She nearly lost her balance.

"Hedwig," he called softly, looking around. He spotted Sharlen and held his arm out to her. "Come here, girl, we've got a letter to write." Sharlen's heart started beating faster and faster; she swiveled her head around to find the real Hedwig, but she had been put to sleep by Sharlen's songs. Harry tilted his head slightly and reached up to stroke her feathers softly. "What's wrong Hedwig?"

Had he really mistaken them? Sharlen clicked her beak a few times in disagreement and transformed in front of him. He didn't take a step back or gasp, just stared. "I'm not Hedwig, Harry," she said simply, carefully.

"I see that."

"I need to talk to you."

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off hers. "I was just coming to get Hedwig to, erm, so I could write you a letter." He found all he could do, all he wanted to do, was be honest with her. Tell her everything.

Sharlen set her mouth into a half smirk, half grin, trying not to seem too pleased with the outcome of her efforts. "Why hadn't you just approached me?"

"It's not as simple as it sounds," Harry said semi-defensively. So, he had let his friends words get to him. Or was there something else standing in his way? "I have so many questions," he said, almost as an apology for raising his voice at her. She closed her eyes, smiling, and shook her head.

"Now's not the time, Harry," she whispered. "I will answer all of your questions; I owe you as much. Sleep on it, and dream. Your dreams were always so beautiful."

Harry let out a shallow breath but she kept her eyes closed, not daring to look at him. "Why come back now?"

"Why not?"

She felt the pressure of his lips on hers pull her face up closer and lost herself in the contact, in the memory of the day she'd had to leave him. She was thankful it hadn't been a vision of the future; she had to admit what was to come frightened her slightly, especially concerning him.

Sharlen pulled away gently, breaking off with slight suction and a smile. "I trust you know your way back," she muttered, stepping away. He nodded slightly and picked up his cloak off the floor; he had dropped it when he'd kissed her. She took his sleeve, careful not to touch his flesh, and folded a small leather book into his hand. "We can communicate through this," she explained, holding up her own little black book. "I duplicated it this morning; I know it's difficult to find me between classes. Yours is empty; mine is full of my memories, all precious, horrifying, and belonging to strangers. When you need me, just tell me so, and I'll find a way to you. Trust me, okay? I'll see you soon." She pivoted, transforming with the graceful gesture, and flew out of the Owlery to finally return to her room, leaving Harry smiling faintly after her, hopeful, yet content.

"I'll meet you guys there, okay? Just go!" Hermione started down the hallway Monday morning, claiming she didn't want breakfast, and that for the fourth time in days she simply 'had something she needed to do'.

"Alright, fess up Hermione. What are you sneaking off to do?" Ron inquired, standing stubbornly in the hall. His stomach growled loudly, but he barely flinched. He definitely meant business. Harry was curious, too.

"I'm not sneaking off!"

"It's sneaking if we don't know where you're going!"

"Since when do _you_ have to know where I am at all times?!"

"Guys, calm down," Harry said firmly, glancing between the two. "We're just curious, Hermione. Come on, tell us where you've been going lately." Sighing Hermione followed them toward the Great Hall, defeated. Ron pondered why she hadn't just given in to him instead.

The trio passed Sharlen in the Hall; Hermione scowled wearily, Ron gave an uneasy wave, and Harry just watched her simply pass. She smiled at him, and him alone, before transforming; she'd seemed pale. As the three of them watched her fly off they noticed her exit was less graceful than usual; she seemed to be having more difficulty getting full strength in the beat of her wings. "I wonder what's the matter," Harry muttered to no one in particular.

"_She's_ the reason I've been 'sneaking off' lately," Hermione explained with a jab of her head in the direction Sharlen had flown off. Harry and Ron quickly looked at her.

"Sharlen?" they both said in unison, although their tones were completely different.

"Yes, Sharlen Down," she repeated, seating herself at a more abandoned end of the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron followed suit, interested now. "I went back to ask Professor Lupin about her, and at first he said he couldn't tell me anything. And the second time he said so, too, something about 'protecting student's privacy' and all that." She waved it aside as though Sharlen didn't have any right to privacy.

"Go on," Ron urged her.

"It took some convincing, but he of course finally told me some things about her, and I'm not liking what I'm hearing." Hermione poured herself some pumpkin juice but frowned into it instead of drinking.

"What kind of things?" Harry asked eagerly. Ron nodded.

"Lupin claims she's bad news," she began, "says that her roots run very, very deep into the Dark Arts. Deeper than anyone else we know who's in Slytherin. He said that she's an orphan, that she doesn't have any parents. He wouldn't explain that part, but, he did tell me that she does have a guardian. Professor Snape adopted her so she could come to Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Ron spat his pumpkin juice all over Neville… who was a decent enough distance away.

Hermione pressed forward. "I couldn't get much more out of him about her parentage, but, he told me more about her powers. She's been an Animagi for a long, long time; since she was a child. She has telekinesis, and she can't use wands; she casts spells with her mind, wordless spells, so in duels her opponents don't know what's about to hit them before it hits, and she's got a killer poker face-"

"Why on Earth would Lupin tell you all this?" Ron asked incredulously. Of course, Hermione ignored him.

"-which, as you can imagine, is a serious advantage in battles. She's a Divine, a real one, not like that hag Trelawney. When she comes in contact, flesh-to-flesh with someone, she gets visions of either their pasts or futures, so she doesn't let anyone touch her. She can see auras. That's why she flies to all her classes and doesn't come to meals; when she's around too many people at once all the positive or negative energy builds up and she can't break it down or process it fast enough. It's really damaging, supposedly. She's collapsed for days from it before." Harry only half-listened; he already knew or remembered most of what she was saying.

"Well, someone's certainly done their homework," Ron muttered to lighten the tension. He shoveled more scrambled eggs into his mouth. "You sound like a stalker, Hermione. Or, even worse, _Lupin_ sounds like a stalker. Did you find out about the stickers?"

Hermione shoved him, but Harry just put his hands into his pockets so they wouldn't see him fingering the little black book she'd given him. When they'd kissed, what had she seen? He was certain she hadn't said anything. It dawned on him then that it had been the first time he'd ever touched her; she'd never let him make skin-to-skin contact before. They used to hold hands all the time, with at least one layer of sleeve carefully slithered between them. Mittens. Jackets.

"What was that you said about Snape adopting her?" Ron asked, mouth full of bacon and sausages. Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust and handed him a napkin.

"According to Professor Lupin, Snape didn't even hesitate. He had just unquestioningly taken her in supposedly."

"God, no wonder she's crazy; who deserves Snape as a dad?" Ron nudged Harry and jerked his head in the direction of the Great Hall's entrance. "I bet that's why she didn't look so hot this morning. Snape probably tortures or does experiments on her or something."

"That's awful, Ron," Hermione gasped. "No Professor would do that, especially not someone in the Order!"

"It's Snape for crying out loud, why wouldn't he?"

"I just remembered," Harry interrupted, standing, "That I forgot my Transfiguration homework in the room. I'll meet you at McGonagall's class, okay?" Hermione and Ron continued bickering, nodding absently at his words. He raced himself up to the Common Room, now empty, and opened the black book. He dug in his bag for some ink and a quill and flipped to the first blank page. '_Are you okay?_' he wrote, glancing around as though afraid someone were reading over his shoulder. '_You seemed kind of sick this morning._' He sat and stared at the paper as though waiting for a reply to bleed onto the page like it had been with Tom Riddle's diary, but nothing happened. The bell for class rang and he reluctantly stood and headed off to class.

However, in the hall he bumped his pocket against one of the banisters and the book slid out and to the floor, opening to the written-on page. There, staring up at him as he paused in retrieval, was her response: '_I'm sorry to worry you. I assure you I'll be fine; I'm quite used to this. I promise to answer all of your questions._'

_Used to what?_ he wondered as he continued on his way to class.

Sharlen barely made it to Hagrid's lesson. She skipped Flitwick's class altogether. She'd promised herself she wouldn't ditch her classes, but he'd said that today they would begin work on silenced spells so she figured she wouldn't be missing much. She had to lie down.

Draco had found her last night. Someone had closed and locked the window to her dorm, the one she had purposely left open, and so she'd had to find an alternate route in; all the Slytherin Common Room windows had been locked as well. She'd scoped the view and it had appeared deserted, but when she'd reentered through the main entrance who awaited her but Malfoy the snitch and dear old Snape?

Snape had practically dragged her down to his office by her hair; she hadn't been objecting going with him, but he'd been going much too fast for her to keep up and still keep quiet. Once in the hollows of his dungeon hideout he had forced her to tell him where she'd been and who she'd been with. For fear for Harry's safety, she kept her mouth shut. She'd earned several minutes under the Cruciatus Curse for her disobedience; Malfoy just stood in the doorway and watched, trying not to seem too horrified. He escorted her back to her dorm and was told to stand watch over her, which was completely unnecessary; she'd collapsed onto her pillows and panted herself into sleep within an hour, not moving an inch in or out of consciousness.

Stacey woke her up that morning, shaking her and telling her she'd overslept; she hadn't noticed a thing. Sharlen suspected Draco had put her four roommates under a deep sleeping spell once he'd discovered her gone. "You don't look so hot," Stacey informed her, sitting down on the edge of her bed and feeling her forehead through her pajama sleeve. "You don't have a fever, though. How do you feel?" As she'd pulled her hand away a little 'Cutie Pie!' sticker was left in its absence. Sharlen ripped it from her skin.

"I'll be fine, just give me a minute."

Stacey's maternal instincts had taken over by fourth period, just before lunch. They'd been reunited in Transfiguration (Sharlen had skipped Trelawny's class as well) and after nearly passing out while trying to turn a stick of butter into a slug Stacey put her foot down and nearly squashed her own slimy creation. "I don't know _what_ you did last night, but you're in no condition to face Professor Snape," she muttered, placing her slug back on the table before she inflicted further damage upon it. "I'm telling you right now to go to Madame Pomfrey and ask for the rest of the day off."

Sharlen shook her head, swallowing her nausea. "I need to go to Potions-"

Stacey placed a sticker to her lips to quiet her. "NO," she said firmly, gripping her arm tightly as the bell rang and the rest of the Slytherins departed the room. "You're snuggling into some flannels and taking a snooze and that's final little missy!"

Sharlen tried to fight her off and settled upon a compromise. "Okay, if I tell you why it's important that I don't skip these next few classes will you let me go?"

Stacey considered this, letting her go briefly to think animatedly. Sharlen pondered how this was possible while she nodded in agreement. "Alright. If you've got good reason, let's hear it."

"Great. I'll explain later." In the time it took for Stacey to comprehend that she'd just been tricked Sharlen had transformed and taken off. "You better at least rest during break!" she shouted after the snowy owl, which hooted in response; Sharlen had been planning on it.

"Allowing you to fly to classes was supposed to ensure that you got here on time." Sharlen stood by the window of Snape's classroom, glancing wearily at her assembled Potions class; she'd overslept. Her eyes met Harry's and he went to wave, but at the suspicious looks his two friends gave him he set his hand back down, which was wise because Snape's gaze had flickered to him too.

Sharlen sighed. "I-"

"No excuses. Take a seat, Sharlen." Snape bit his tongue as it completed forming the sounds of her name. A whisper rushed through the class and Draco shared a glare with the Potions Master. He never let late students off that easily, nor did he ever call a student by their first name. Sharlen swept past him to her seat and muttered, "Good going, genius," as she went.

Ron raised his eyebrows at Hermione and Harry. "Maybe he _is_ her guardian," he muttered, perplexed by these antics.

Hermione puffed up her cheeks angrily. "Had you any reason to doubt my sources?" she asked in a hiss. Ron shrugged. Harry stayed silent.

Throughout the lesson the energy between teacher and student continued to build. During a brief reading assignment Snape rested in the shadows, observing Sharlen. He then proceeded to point out that she looked very pale and ask if she was alright. With fire in her eyes she'd responded that she was fine, with emphasis on 'fine.' Once or twice deeper into the lesson he'd set a hand on her shoulder and leaned over her to 'observe her work'; by the end of the lesson Ron was wondering outwardly if they were more than guardian and child.

"How utterly ridiculous Ron," Hermione had responded to his idea of a Professor/Student relationship of that nature, "We'd better hurry or we'll be late for Lupin's class."

"What d'you reckon, Harry?" Ron asked. "You've been quiet about it." In truth Harry didn't know. The way they looked at each other was reason enough to believe that there was something more between them, but what he was unsure of. He was also unsure of whether or not it was his place to ask. Not right away, he decided after a while; there was still so much more he had to ask. "You can't deny that something's going on; Snape normally treats his students like they're blobs of something foul he'd prefer not to even look at."

Harry shrugged. "It's not really any of our business, I guess."

Sharlen had only gone to Potions to ensure that Snape left Harry alone and wasn't too suspicious and with her mission over she decided to skip Defense Against the Dark Arts as well. When she got back to her room she made a mental note to wake up sometime after classes actually ended, which would be simply enough; she could normally pull herself in and out of naps. She was very shocked indeed to find that she'd woken at eight that evening.

She wearily opened her eyes, stretched, and looked around the room. It was empty at first glance, and dark. Had a storm rolled in? She'd been hoping to meet Harry out on the grounds, but they wouldn't be allowed out in stormy weather… As she pondered how a perfectly sunny day had turned so dark so quickly she caught a glimpse at the moon and nearly fell out of her bed. Grabbing her nearby clock, she realized dinner stragglers would still be leaving the Great Hall. How had this happened?

Ripping her little black book from underneath her pillow she turned pages furiously and found that two more notes from Harry had been written under their first conversation. One was, '_Can we meet up after lessons? I have so much to ask you_,' and the other, '_Are you sure everything's OK?_' Sharlen dove almost head-first into Stacey's bag for a quill and scrawled back, '_Definitely tomorrow. I'm sorry I didn't answer sooner; I needed to rest and lost track of time. I'll visit you later tonight; wait for me._' She tucked the book into the waist of her skirt and took off to find Stacey.

Stacey literally ran into her while reentering the dorm room. Sharlen instantly backed off to avoid contact. "Where've you been?" she asked suspiciously. Something inside of her was telling her Stacey was the one to blame for her sleeping in, which she knew was unfair, but she couldn't shake the feeling.

"Ahh, so you've come around," Stacey gasped, completely ignoring her question. She skirted Sharlen and plopped stomach-down onto her bed, kicking her legs and watching her intently. "Did you sleep well?"

"A little _too_ well," Sharlen replied with a yawn. She'd gotten more sleep that day than she'd ever had at one time. She suspected that the curse Snape had put on her the previous night added to the exhaustion of such a highly populated area was to blame, but she still didn't understand how she could have gotten so exhausted.

"Well, I would hope so!" Stacey giggled mischievously.

Sharlen raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I put a spell on you so that you'd sleep better; you looked like you were having a fit when I came in after classes let out. I figured you'd taken off Lupin's class when you didn't show up. Your sleeping habits are dreadful and you just looked so pale; I thought a good rest might help you out a little," she explained, rubbing a sticker onto the back of her hand. Sharlen closed her eyes for the sake of remaining calm; Stacey had only been trying to help. She couldn't have possibly known what Sharlen had been planning or thinking. After all, Stacey was still left in the dark about Harry and about who she really was. She stood debating whether or not a good explanation was overdue; Stacey mistook it for aggravation. "I'm sorry if you're mad. I suppose I should have woken you after all, then?"

Sharlen shook her head. "Thank you for not interrupting my sleep, but I would really appreciate it if in the future you refrained from putting spells on me while I'm unconscious." Stacey smiled and nodded to show she understood. Her aura burned gaily, reflecting her nature. No, Sharlen would not tell her yet, not of her parentage at least. She would not burden her and risk putting out that flame. "Just a heads up," she muttered outside of her thoughts, "I'll be taking off later tonight for a little while, so if you happen to wake up with me gone, please don't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone?" Stacey sat up and cleared the smile from her face.

"Draco Malfoy was in our dorm last night, making sure I was in bed," she informed her. "If I'm caught out of my bed again, well… My guardian won't be too pleased, to say the least of it."

"Your guardian…" Stacey repeated slowly as though testing the words on her tongue. "So the rumors are true, then? You're Professor Snape's adopted kid?"

Sharlen grimaced. "That's an interesting way to put it… Snape took me in so that I could attend here."

"I've heard of children from orphanages attending here. Couldn't you have simply stuck with your orphanage as a 'guardian'?"

"Are you tired?" Sharlen asked.

Stacey nodded a little. "Yeah, I go to bed early, you know me by now."

"I was just checking," Sharlen muttered.

"I want to hear the story, though," she urged. Sharlen nodded.

"I didn't belong to an orphanage," Sharlen informed her. Stacey tilted her head in cute curiosity and confusion.

"Then were you… living alone?" she guessed, hoping Sharlen would correct her with an answer. "How did you learn about… about that 'time of the month' and everything?"

"It's painful to talk about," Sharlen lied as an excuse to get out of an explanation. Stacey nodded her understanding.

"Now, going back to what you said originally… If old Snapey's gonna get pissed about you skipping curfew then why don't you just stay the night like the rest of us?" Stacey asked, reaching for her favorite bottle of 'Paradise Kiss' orange nail polish and unscrewing the cap. "I mean, if it will keep Malfoy off patrol and OUT of our room…" She grimaced, either at the thought of him watching over her sleeping or from the smell of the polish. "I mean, isn't that illegal? Should we report him for that?"

"I need to go out tonight…" Sharlen muttered, stroking her book. She sat at the windowsill directly next to Stacey's bed and stared at the ground. "I have some promises to fulfill."

"OK, way too dramatic for me," Stacey exclaimed between puffs meant to dry her first coat. "You're always so secretive and introverted. The world's not against you, girl. Would it kill you to let me in, at least, on what your big mission is for tonight?"

Sharlen took a deep breath, and retold her story to Stacey. She told her of how she knew Harry, of how she had been his 'imaginary friend' and had come back now to help him escape his fate. She told her everything she could remember except why she hadn't been able to return to him until now and why she had been his imaginary friend in the first place. When Stacey had inquired about that part Sharlen simply told her that perhaps one day she would tell her. She didn't ask anymore about that.

"That's really deep, Sharlen," Stacey informed her in a breathy voice, staring wide-eyed at her nails. She looked up to her friend with a huge grin on her face. "And it's so incredibly romantic! Coming back into his arms after all these years, reunited with your one true friend, the boy you knew so long ago! Escaping fate and overcoming time and authorities to be with the one you love…" Stacey made a wide gesture with her arms and quickly pulled them to her chest, the bottle of nail polish still clutched in her fist, almost spilling all over her.

"Put the damn cap on, god…" Sharlen muttered, snatching it away from her.

Stacey beamed. "I'm sorry, I'm just so excited for you! I mean, I have nothing against Harry Potter, and it really is time for something to go right in his life." She nudged Sharlen and winked. "Just don't get into any trouble tonight."

Sharlen sighed. "I'll get out of this Scott-free if Draco just minds his own damned business and stays out of our dorm…"

Stacey saluted to Sharlen, smudging the nail polish on her thumb slightly across her forehead. "You leave ickle Malfoy to me." And, for whatever reason, Sharlen did.


	5. The Hospital Wing

Harry sat and stared at his little black book, reciting Sharlen's last message in his head. '_I'll visit you later tonight; wait for me._' Did she really mean it? His roommates slept around him, but he wouldn't be able to sleep that night, whether she showed up or not. Too many questions where locked up inside of him.

He glanced over at Ron's tuft of red hair peeking out from underneath the comforter and felt instantly guilty. Normally Ron was the first person he told everything, but he had never let his friend know about Sharlen. When she'd left him it had left a deep wound that, in a way, was still healing. He had completely shut her out.

A soft tapping at the window alerted his senses and he quickly turned. He glimpsed the silhouette of an owl and quickly opened the shutters to allow her entrance, stepping aside. He shut the window after she was in and then turned back to her; she had transformed back into her body and was already strapping earmuffs over the others boys' ears; she'd stolen the stash from her dorm mates.

Sharlen turned back to Harry and sighed; she was still pretty pale. Harry walked toward her, eyes moving steadily around her face; she wasn't looking back at him. "What happened to you?" In the moonlight she seemed even more sickly, the blue glow of the darkness distorting her features.

She shook her head and he saw her eyes flick up to his. "It's not important now. I know you have many, many more questions." She strode over to his bed and sat down, and he did the same.

Harry nodded, thought a moment, and then turned back to her. "I want to know what you're doing here," he informed her, staring her down, "and why now. And why everyone can see you."

Sharlen nodded. "Those are more or less basic," she muttered, studying the room. "I expected as much." She sighed again and returned her gaze to his moonlit eyes. "I've been trying to contact you again for years now, Harry. It's been out of my power, until almost two years ago when my… when my father came back around. It still took some convincing but he finally said that he didn't care whether I went to Hogwarts or not, didn't care if I found you again. I would have come sooner, much sooner, but my Master wouldn't allow it. He didn't think my father would allow it, and wasn't about to do anything without his direct order."

"Your _master_?" Sharlen simply nodded. It was no use explaining, not now anyway. She didn't know how he'd react if he knew the identities of the people she was speaking of. "So then how can everyone see you? I thought you were… well…"

"Your imaginary friend?" Sharlen submitted, grinning.

Harry grinned as well, almost bashfully. "Yeah."

"Well," Sharlen began, thinking, "When I was really little, farther back than I can remember, when I was still an infant, my father ordered my Master to give me that position before he went away. In truth, I was never imaginary. I've always been a real person. My Master put a spell on me so that I would only be visible to you and to him, which was why your horrible relatives couldn't see me, and told you I didn't exist."

"Why me, though? And why you?" Harry shifted so he was closer to her, and leaned back so that his arm curled almost around her waist. He seemed merely interested, but Sharlen's heart began to beat faster and faster, louder in her ears, restricted in her throat. The thought of his lips on hers made her flush.

"It's because of who we are," she told him softly, eyes on the collar of his shirt.

"What do you mean?"

"It's not important right now, but I will tell you eventually."

"Okay…" he said slowly, looking at the floor to mask his confusion. "So then…" He shook his head as though rethinking it, but pressed on nonetheless. "So then why did you leave me?"

"Oh Harry, you can't believe it was my choice," Sharlen said hurriedly, sitting up straighter and clutching his shirt sleeve. "That's… you didn't think that, did you? This whole time?"

"I didn't know what to think," he admitted, still not looking at her, "You were the only person I could ever talk to, and then I told you to go away, that I hated you…" Sharlen could see the pain in his eyes, and she willed him to stop talking, but she said nothing to end the words. "The next thing I knew you were out of my life. I never quite forgave myself… or you."

"I never wanted to leave," she assured him, turning his face back toward hers. She blinked back the image, whatever it was, focusing wholly on him, and him alone. To no avail; she saw the day Snape told her that she couldn't see him anymore. They day she introduced him to darkness. "I wanted to be by your side forever. I had no control over my coming and going. All you need to know, for now, is that I've come back to help you." Harry glanced at her lips and then quickly back to her eyes. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Sharlen watched the images play as Harry kissed her. Happy memories, like when they first met when their lips came in contact, them holding hands on the way home when he drew her nearer and cupped her cheek, them playing on an abandoned playground when his tongue parted her lips.

When they finally pulled away Sharlen leaned against him and closed her eyes. How long had she waited for this? Time seemed to no longer be a factor at all.

"Hey," Harry said into the darkness, still holding her to his chest, "Why is it you'll touch me but not anyone else?"

Sharlen laughed softly. "So you know of my powers, then."

"I already knew about most of them," he muttered into her hair, "but Hermione's kind of done some research on you and I was just wondering."

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" Sharlen sat up and looked at him, curious. He shrugged and she nodded. She didn't like nosy people. "Well, some memories are painful," she began, choosing her words carefully, "but some are like dreams. Touching you is like bringing back the old times. Like you're still pushing me on that swing. Like we're still lying in the Charlesbrooke Meadow, watching the clouds and naming their shapes."

Harry laughed as well. "That really was a long time ago, wasn't it," he said as more of a statement than a question.

Sharlen placed her hand in his and laced their fingers. "Too long."

Slipping through the window Stacey had agreed to keep unlocked for her Sharlen arrived back at the dorm apparently before any tragedy could occur. Sure, they were having _some _sort of screaming fit on the other side of the room, but no one seemed to be in pain, or trouble. In truth, she hadn't wanted to leave Harry's; she explained to him that Stacey supposedly had Draco patrol under control – "He sneaks into your _dorm_ while you're all _sleeping_?!" – but he insisted that, in case something had gone wrong and back-up was needed, or her presence, she had to go. He said she looked like she needed some rest as well. All seemed just fine though.

She'd thought too soon. The second the window was closed again, the girls stirred, and pounced.

They drowned her in seas of reds, oranges, and browns. Somewhere in the background Stacey tried to push her way past Pansy, Rachel, and Millicent and get them to lay off; she was nothing but a yellow tipped cherry aura in the distance.

"Why is Draco sneaking into _our_ dorm to see _you_?" Pansy asked angrily, hands on her hips as she jabbered her outrages.

"How _dare_ you steal our stolen earmuffs!," Millicent Bullstrode screeched at her, seizing the front of her robes. "We need our beauty sleep! How are we going to achieve that if all we can hear is _that_ one?" She tossed a glance at Stacey, who was tapping her incessantly on the shoulder. Sharlen didn't even have a chance to ponder about how Millicent Bullstrode thought any amount of beauty sleep would save her; Rachel had a go at her, too.

"You show up here out of the blue and think you're better than everyone! You've got five years of catching up to do before you belong here. You can't just _leave_ in the middle of the night, nor can you have _boys _sneaking in! We have dignity to maintain; your screw ups and bad judgments affect all of us, you know!"

"Girls, please, back off, it'll be fine," Stacey called, trying to make her way between the three angry roommates and Sharlen, who looked weary and out of it. She was unsteadying as the yelling continued. "We're fine, we didn't get caught, and it won't happen again! You're going to wake up the whole tower for chrissake…"

"Stay _away_ from Draco you awful wench!"

"Where _are_ our earmuffs?!

"Who do you think you _are_?"

"Girls, stop, please!"

"BITCH! SLAG!"

"EARMUFFS!"

"DIGNITY!"

"Please, SHUT UP!"

The girls emotive colors got into her system, blended, and rendered her unconscious. She felt her head hit the window sill on the way down, sealing the deal, and then the blended auras made black and there was nothing.

When she awoke in the hospital wing the next day she reflected on how being conscious was simply odd. Normally when she was in skin-to-skin contact with someone, she saw the past or future, but when unconscious and touching someone she saw what she was missing presently. The image she'd seen of Master Severus cradling her in his arms and rushing her down to Madame Pomfrey came back to her, and she turned away from her mind. She wasn't so sure it had really happened, but she'd never not trusted her visions before, and they'd never given her reason to.

If he had carried her down to the infirmary, he was a fool. All his lectures of how she had to keep up her image and how hard it had been to get her in… He was drawing attention to the two of them. Sharlen held her head, reached for the pack of Tarot cards she'd had Stacey steal from Professor Trelawney, and set them up.

Three cards stared back at her, all from the Major Arcana; Justice, the Emperor, and the Hierophant. True enough she had done it incorrectly; Sharlen never used the Minor Arcana unless it was her own deck, which she'd led Stacey to with her words, but the girl had not been able to find them. The Minor Arcana held so many cards she just felt they worked more effectively if they were her own. Besides, the Major Arcana could stand alone, she found; with the common settings of the three cards she'd pulled then, she was sure of it. She took their reversed meanings to heart, knowing there was nothing positive going on outside these walls involving her; to even consider the cards upright meanings would be ignorance.

Justice reversed: false accusations, bias, abuse.

The Emperor reversed: immaturity, petty emotions, lack of strength.

The Hierophant reversed: repeated errors, vulnerability, impotence.

Rumors.

To be absolutely sure, Sharlen seized the Minor Arcana portion of the original deck and shuffled them in, setting back up and giving the drawing another try. The same three cards faced her.

Rumors about her were all over the school. Sharlen bent her head to her knees and clenched her body up tight, all her muscles getting a workout, all her strength being drained. She shook so much in effort that the feel of a steady hand on her shoulder made her scream.

Sharlen had heard from almost everyone she'd bothered to ask (a.k.a. Stacey) that Madame Pomfrey had a killer poker face. She didn't allow any nonsense, and was firm in her commands, yet not heartless. Sharlen felt heartless seeing the look on Madame Pomfrey's face as she leapt away from her. She stared, holding a vile of potion in her hand, her eyes wide open and her face drained of color. Her aura glowed a bright lemon-yellow, which gave away that she was fearful of her handle over herself, and struggling to keep control in the inner band; the second band of her aura was a kind of dirt brown overlay for insecurity. Sharlen panted, her eyes searching the school nurse's, suddenly aware of the sheets disheveled and ravaged, her messy hair, the stolen tarot cards now lying on the floor around the bed. Madame Pomfrey gave her the look she knew all too well… the one that told her of a specific fear, of a thought that ran through everyone's head. This is Voldemort's daughter, right before me, staring me down. Get the hell away before she turns on you.

"I'm sorry to startle you," Madame Pomfrey muttered, setting down the vile and scampering away from the bed. "I've been instructed to see that you drink that."

She didn't see that she drank it. She hadn't even stayed long enough to hear Sharlen's refusal to do so.

Her head throbbed as she stood to gather the cards that had fallen in her spaz attack and set them back with the abandoned Minor Arcana pile. The liquid in the vile was clear, so she knew it wasn't the normal potion she regularly took from Snape; that one was a bright scarlet. She took the vile and went to dump it out in the infirmary bathroom, but, who should stop her but Snape himself? "I gave that to Madame Pomfrey to give to you," he explained, holding her wrist steady so she could not be rid of the contents. Sharlen saw Snape's memory of the previous night when she'd collapsed, felt his fear of retribution, his worry.

Sharlen took a closer look at the clear liquid. "Veritaserum?"

"I've taught you well." Snape led her back to her bed and stood over her as she lay back down. He took the vile and held it to her lips but, like a child, she kept her mouth clamped shut. "Sharlen. Now."

Leaning her head away and making sure the vile was a safe distance away before speaking she muttered, "Do you have permission to give me that? What is it you want to know that you don't trust me to say?" The look Snape gave her was of the 'Are you kidding me?' variety. She continued, "I don't exactly remember what happened last night that would make you suspect me of something to a point where you'd need to use Veritaserum, but-"

"Not last night," Snape corrected, an excuse not to answer her. "The night before."

Sharlen's face fell. "What? I've been out for a whole day?"

"You don't remember?" came a voice from the end of the hall. Sharlen craned her neck around Snape and saw Stacey coming towards them, smiley as ever. "You woke up for a while yesterday, told Madame Pomfrey to let me in so I could get the cards for you, and then you passed back out." Sharlen thought about that and remembered how Madame Pomfrey had refused to allow her visitors (per the insistence of Snape, she believed) and she'd had to scare her a little to get Stacey in. '_Ahh, right. I already knew I couldn't have been asleep all yesterday, because of the cards. Snape's got me all messed up..._'

"Miss Davis," Madame Pomfrey hissed from the doorway, glancing at Sharlen and not daring to go any closer. '_No_ way_ I scared her_ that _much._' "Come back here, let them talk."

"But I have her homework from yesterday," Stacey argued, holding up Sharlen's bag which she must have kidnapped from the dorm. "All except, well… Potions…" She glanced wearily at Snape, as though just realizing he was there.

"Then leave it here already. Go back to your classes."

"Madame Pomfrey," Sharlen called, setting her eyes into a hollow stare upon the nurse, this time trying to scare her, "You wouldn't want me to fall behind, would you?"

Madame Pomfrey was about to speak, but Snape cut her off. "They'll be fine, Madame Pomfrey," he muttered as he turned to leave, taking his Veritaserum with him. The commotion had apparently taken his confidence. Madame Pomfrey retreated to the safety of her office, and the two Slytherins were left alone.

"I actually didn't bring homework," Stacey confessed, "You didn't really have much, so I just left it in the dorm. Who wants to do homework while they're recovering?" She shook her head. "Flitwick let you off when he heard about your injury, and so did Lupin and Trelawney. As I said I don't know about Potions, but McGonagall didn't let you off either, because… well, she's just not intimidated I guess. I took care of your unicorn duties yesterday; no Care of Magical Creatures homework." Stacey grinned.

She hadn't mentioned Harry or Draco at all. Sharlen sighed, "Great Stacey, thanks." She paused. "So, what is in the bag?"

"Well, I brought a few things I thought you might want." She pulled out her tarot deck and her little black book. "I found yours; it was just where you said it would be! I'm sorry I didn't look hard enough before. I'll return Trelawney's deck." She pocketed the stolen deck with a wink and a smile. "Oh, and here's your diary thing. I didn't read it, honest. I just thought you'd like to know it was safe. And this flask you always drink from, weirdo."

Sharlen folded the small book in her arms, staring at Stacey. "Thank you," she said, this time with real gratitude. Stacey looked immensely proud. Sharlen took the opportunity to open her book to the last written-on page; Harry had written to her. Nonchalantly blocking Stacey's view, she read: _I heard about what happened. You okay? They locked you up yet? Contact me when you can – I'll visit. _"Have you talked to Harry at all?"

Stacey shook her head, peeling stickers and decorating an apology note she'd written to Professor Trelawney. As she spoke, Sharlen took the note and ripped it up, ashamed of her friend's dismally interfering conscience. "I've seen him but I haven't said anything to him. I can talk to him next period, if you'd like. Speaking of Harry…" She plopped down on Sharlen's bed, a devious look on her face. "Dish. What happened the other night?"

"You first."

"Oh, you mean like with Draco?" Stacey waved it aside like it was no big deal. "I basically sat in front of the door all night; the girls didn't bother with me, because they figured I was just odd like that." Sharlen pictured Stacey sitting in front of the dormitory door, staring at the wood with a determination on her face and her eyes narrowed in concentration. "That little jerk didn't even knock. He just went right to open the door. So, when I saw it start to open, I pushed it closed. He falls backwards, rolls down he stairs, smacks his head open, and Pansy puts the poor thing to bed. Because you took the earmuffs it was hard for them to get to sleep (they made a huge deal about that, by the way; took them an hour or so to get off my back about 'em) and they woke up when they heard the door slam. THEN of course they wanted to know why the hell I did that so I told them Malfoy had been sneaking into our room to see you which I apparently didn't word so well because Pansy went into an almighty uproar and although I tried I fix what I'd said she wouldn't listen to reason and then they started a vendetta against you and you came back in the room and-"

"BREATHE, damn you," Sharlen shouted at her. For the past few days Stacey's perk level had indeed gone down but when she was telling a story she lost herself in run-on sentences. "Okay, so Malfoy never found out I was gone. What time did he come, about?"

"Maybe 12:30, or something, I don't know."

"Wait… does he know you're the one who pushed him down the stairs?" Sharlen asked suddenly, sitting up in bed.

Stacey pondered. "Pansy may have told him while she was tucking him in or licking his wounds or something, because she hates me so much. He hasn't really let on that he knows, or if he does he doesn't seem to care… He's been picking on me a bit more than usual, though…"

While Stacey contradicted herself Sharlen made a mental note to warn Malfoy not to lay a hand on her, or to cover for her. Either one would work fine, but something had to be done. Stacey was too naive to know the danger she could possibly be in. "Well," Stacey sighed, standing, "I wanna catch the second half of lunch, okay? Rest up and feel better." Stacey handed her a whole page of rainbow stickers and swept from the room.

Sharlen looked at the stickers for a few minutes, peeling back the background stick and pasting it back down with her thumb nail. She was about to write a response to Harry in her little book, when she had yet another visitor. Sharlen heard Madame Pomfrey talking to another student before he came around the corner, practically ignoring her.

"You cheeky devil," Draco snickered, approaching her bed and shutting the curtain around them. Sharlen observed a small bruise near his hairline. Is that all he walked away with? From the feel of it Sharlen had cracked her skull in half just from the windowsill.

"_Speak_ of the devil," Sharlen shot back.

Draco laughed. "That bump on the head shot your wit, for sure…" He lashed forward and grabbed her throat, speaking over the vision she received of him lying in bed with Pansy tending the wound on his head. "Perhaps you should be rendered unconscious more often. Maybe even permanently."

Sharlen narrowed her eyes at Draco and pulled away from his grasp. "Try it. You and your entire family would follow three steps behind me."

Draco glared at her, pulling up a chair and sitting at her bedside. "You need to knock this shit off, Sharlen," he warned. She interrupted him.

Sitting up and leaning forward Sharlen glared at Draco. "You listen to me. I don't know if your mission has given you a big head but don't ever think you're bigger than me. Tell me what to do one more time and I'll throw you down another flight of stairs."

"Speaking of which, your little friend Stacey's in for a rude awakening," he threatened through gritted teeth.

"It wasn't Stacey, you moron. I pushed you down the stairs. Don't ever go sneaking into our room again."

Draco pshawww'd. "Pansy told me it was that Davis girl. Don't cover for her. Pansy can't stand you; why would she give up the chance to rat you out?"

"Pansy told you it was Stacey for her own reasons; she didn't think you'd believe it was me. Note that you don't right now, and wouldn't have then, because you believed me to not even be in my dorm."

While Draco was pondering this, Sharlen heard more footsteps approaching. Draco started bitching about her probably having not been in the dorm.

Harry skirted Madame Pomfrey who was jotting something down in her log in her office, having been tipped off by Stacey that she wasn't keen on allowing Sharlen visitors. He'd given her back the earmuffs and she'd giggled herself something awful. Harry turned the corner and set his eyes on the only bed with the curtains shut, spying a pack of tarot cards on the bedside table and taking an educated guess. "Sharlen, it's me," he called just before pulling open the curtain. "I was really worried-"

Harry froze seeing Malfoy with her. His cheeks burned a little red; Draco's hand was on her stomach, and Harry stared at it as though wishing her could make it burst into flames. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting an old friend," Draco sneered, his thumb stroking Sharlen's stomach. He watched Harry watch his digit with amusement playing on his lips and in his eyes.

Sharlen shoved him. "Go away Draco, get the hell out of here."

"Hey, who are you to refuse my company?" he asked her before she seized him. One hand curled around his head and gripped his hair tightly while the other pushed a finger to his wound, pushing harder and harder until he was nearly sobbing. "Madame Pomfrey!" she shouted, telling Harry to hide.

Harry ducked behind her bed just as Madame Pomfrey came around the corner huffily. She let go to Draco and he held his head gingerly, sniffling. "Would you be so kind as to see Mr. Malfoy out?"

"So, be honest with me," she muttered darkly as Harry sat down beside her on the bed and they watched Malfoy go, furiously, "am I the talk of the town?"

"Well…"

"And your friends," she added quietly, "How much did you tell them?"

"Well I, er..." Harry muttered, not sure of how much to say.

Sharlen took a deep breath and lightly brought his hand up to her lips, kissing the skin of his wrist in a way she hoped was comforting. Harry sighed longingly, ignoring her questions.

"I was so worried," he said quietly, looking into her gray eyes. "I didn't want you to… disappear again."

"I'm here on my own terms now," she reassured him, trying to smile through the lie. "I'm not going anywhere."

Harry gave a little nod. "What happened? Your friend Stacey had a hard time explaining."

Sharlen sighed. "I was overwhelmed. Our plan did not go accordingly. The girls in my dorm were pretty pissed about the whole Draco-sneaking-in thing."

"Yeah, I'm going to need you to explain what's going on with that," he said earnestly, leaning forward. "You may not know this, but he is my unofficial arch nemesis and his entire family is full of Death Eaters."

Sharlen's mouth went dry and she reached over for her flask, taking and long draught. She was running low, and the thought of asking Snape for a new batch made her stomach turn. Harry narrowed his eyes at the flask suspiciously. Hearing him talk about Death Eaters made her break out in a cold sweat, but he expected some kind of answer. "Malfoy and I grew up together," she admitted in a small voice. "We went to school together before our Hogwarts letters came."

"You got a letter to Hogwarts when you were eleven?" Harry asked. "Why didn't you come?"

"I wasn't allowed," she replied simply.

"I don't understand your past, Sharlen," he admitted, massaging his scar. Sharlen's eye flew to it, her eyebrows narrowing with concern. "Master, father, my imaginary friend is here—I'm having a hard time connecting the dots. I just can't believe you're here."

"I know it's a lot," she said, bringing a sheet in her hands to form a layer between their skin as she touched his face, "and I'm sorry my answers aren't thorough. I just need you to know that I'm here to help you. That's why I came back."

"I don't know what you mean," Harry muttered evasively, pulling away slightly. It stung. She assumed he didn't want to bother anyone outside his inner circle with the prophecy, his destiny.

"Harry, please," Sharlen said, lowering her voice and gripping his robes, "Please don't shut me out. I know about the prophecy, about the Order." His eyes snapped back to her, lips parted slightly in disbelief. "I know this summer has been hell for you. I know about your godfather. I know you're mourning. I'm so sorry for all you've been through these past few years, past few months."

"How do you possibly…-?"

"I know the battle you have ahead of you and I am here to help you. Let me be of help to you." Harry shook his head, not knowing where to begin. His hand went to his scar again. "Does your scar bother you around me?" Sharlen asked sadly.

"It hurts more nowadays," he said dismissively. His mood seemed to have darkened. "Look, I don't know how you know all that, but-"

"Snape is in the Order, remember?" Sharlen said quickly.

Madam Pomfrey came around the corner. "Miss Down, you're free to go. I want you to return if you experience any dizziness, and if so we may have to try an Anxiety Draught on you. It may help you from being overwhelmed in the halls." With the she walked away.

Harry helped Sharlen up and closed the curtain around her so she could dress. Back to the curtain and arms crossed, he tried to absorb everything she'd said. "Look, Sharlen, I…" He sighed and started again. "I have a lot on my mind and it's really not safe for me to tell you more than you seem to know. I don't want to put you in danger. Everyone close to me ends up in danger." Hearing the curtain pull back, he turned to see Sharlen slipping on her cloak, watching him carefully. He helped her gather her things from the bedside table and pulled her bag over his shoulder. She was unsteady on her feet. "What I have to do… is very complicated. There's a lot we don't know and I don't want to put you in any danger."

Sharlen searched his eyes, frustrated. She didn't know what she had expected, really. The truth about her would surface eventually, but she wanted to spare him too many details about her origin until he was in a better place. When Snape told her he'd lost Sirius, her heart ached for him. She could see the anguish all over his face, even as he tried to remain neutral. She would have to ease into this with him—as far as he knew, she was just a girl who didn't need to be mixed up in his complicated obligations. With a small smile, she said, "At least let me join Dumbledore's Army."

Harry beamed at her, and she softened. "I bet food will make you feel a little better. Have lunch with me," he said, leading her out of the Hospital Wing.


	6. The Headmaster's Office

"Sugar Quill," Snape muttered to the gargoyle in front of the door leading to the Headmaster's study, and it swiftly jumped aside. Rather than quickly reassuming it's upright posture and stone composition, the gargoyle stayed on all four paws, head slightly turned in suspicion and mistrust at Sharlen, who glared just as harshly back. Snape cleared his throat, annoyed, and the gargoyle grudgingly sat up on its haunches and faced front again as Sharlen made for the door.

Snape stayed where he was. "You're not coming?" Sharlen asked, not kindly but too softly to be snide. Snape shook his head.

"The Headmaster requested you, Sharlen. He wishes to speak with you alone." Sharlen merely looked at him, waiting for him to abandon her and walk away, to turn swiftly on his heel and return to the dungeons, but he didn't see fit to move until she did. Without another word Sharlen stepped onto the threshold that began to move by itself, not unlike the Muggle escalator, but she climbed it regardless.

Lunch with Harry the day before seemed so far away now. This second week at Hogwarts was proving as eventful as the first. They caught the end of lunch and took some food out to the grounds during a study period. Against the far east wall, she asked him about his friends and how he spent his summer. She tried to take his mind off the terrible weight of what he had ahead of him, the weight she saw bear heavy on his shoulders when they spoke in the Hospital Wing. The way he spoke of his fellow Gryffindors and their families actually made her want to meet them, somewhat. She was strong in her directive to help Harry; she fully believed to get too entwined in the lives of others would only complicate what she had to do. But watching Harry, she knew the joy he'd found in his friends was a strong part of who he was now, and that she would need to try and be part of that if she wanted to be with him. If he wanted her with him.

Then today, Snape retrieved her after classes and brought her to Dumbledore's office.

She didn't want to give herself too much time to panic. What had he heard?

In truth, it was only natural for Sharlen to be afraid of Dumbledore. Even those who most revered him also feared him in some amount, because of his influence, because of his power and ability. Though he had never and would never say it out loud, Dumbledore was the only person her father Voldemort feared, or had reason to fear – except death.

When she reached the top, Sharlen just stood there, almost afraid to knock as though expecting the door might burn her. Within seconds of her staring at the handle, Dumbledore's call of, "Come in," rang out, and she scrunched up her face anxiously as with her mind she opened the door of his office. She couldn't shake the strong aversion not to touch it.

As the door opened before her, Sharlen made sure to stare at the floor. She did not like looking Dumbledore in the eye, and her father had always advised her not to. The floor seemed too still, and so she looked instead to the various portraits in the room, lining the walls, almost on top of each other. But the previous headmasters and headmistresses were most unkind, glaring and shaking their heads at her, or muttering and questioning outright what Dumbledore had been thinking, letting her into the school. She looked instead to the window, and the brilliant grapefruit sunset outside. She had a strong urge to fly.

"I assure you, Miss Down, my door will do you no physical harm, lest you run into it." Sharlen didn't see it, but Dumbledore was smiling softly at her, peering over his spectacles.

Sharlen nodded curtly and closed her eyes a moment. The door clicked shut behind her. "You summoned me?"

She could feel Dumbledore surveying her from just over the tops of his thin fingertips. Her father's words echoed loudly in her head. _'Absolutely no eye contact with Albus Dumbledore… I daresay he's nowhere near my expertise, but he is an accomplished Legilimens…_'

"Oh I should say not, but then again I hardly ever 'summon' my students to my office… I merely fancied a chat." The smile in his voice was too apparent.

"Yes?" she said obediently. She wanted to be here, in this castle. She had wanted to come to Hogwarts with Harry since he first got his letter, since she first got her letter. Was Dumbledore about to kick her out?

"It's your father and I who are enemies, Miss Down. There's no reason for us to be at odds. Though I must insist you call me Professor."

"Yes, professor," she said nervously. In the left corner nearest to her sat the Sorting Hat, over a fireplace. It raised an eyebrow at her, the seam widening, and she mirrored the expression. Leaning closer, she muttered to it, "Stacey Davis in Slytherin? Really?"

The Sorting Hat laughed loudly and slowly, the brim of its mouth curled into a smirk. "She knew what she wanted, and her secondary traits align quite well with Slytherin House. She demonstrates exceptional resourcefulness and cunning." Sharlen looked at the ground, considering this.

"Won't you sit down?" Dumbledore asked, and out the corner of her eye Sharlen saw his gesture to the chintz chair before his desk. As her eyes went to the chair something gleaming gold and black glittered at her from the edge of his desk…

"The… the ring…" she muttered, eyes wide and horrified. The big black stone in the middle was cracked seemingly in two, down the clean line of the Elder Wand in the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. "… the Stone…"

"Ah," said Dumbledore swiftly, obviously very pleased, "So you know of this heirloom of your father's?"

"The question is how you knew it, not I!" she shouted, her fury coming from nowhere but blind family faith as she finally looked into Dumbledore's bright, clear blue eyes. It frightened her to see that he had no detectable aura, like her father.

"Please sit, Sharlen," Dumbledore said easily, gesturing his blackened hand he had been hiding at the chintz chair behind her, "There is much I'd like to tell you."

"You tried to wear it," she whispered, staring at his shriveled hand openly. "Why would you do such a thing? It was so obviously cursed."

"So like him, you've become," Dumbledore said very quietly, behind an easy smile. "In mannerisms, at least. That's almost exactly what Severus said when he patched me up."

"All of the Hallows, anything procured by Death… they are dangerous! Any item of that exceptional amount of magic is cursed, even before what my father–" she stopped, not knowing how far she should go. Snape didn't even know of her father's Horcruxes. It did not seem wise that she let Dumbledore in on this secret, lest she die.

Although, she reasoned in her head, she would need to tell Harry about them soon…

"Look, I don't know how you came to know of its whereabouts and I know even less of how or why you destroyed the damn thing, old man, but if you brought me here to ask me of it then you shouldn't waste your breath."

"'Professor', please, Miss Down," said Dumbledore, trying not to seem too amused. "Though, I understand the difficulty of getting used to a new name, one only knows what you're used to calling me…"

Sharlen stayed quiet and waited for him to say something, to explain. He looked tired all of the sudden. "Now, as I see it the two of us have quite a lot to talk about together, though I'm now realizing you wish to do so standing. That is, of course, your choice, but just let me impress upon you that we have quite a lot to discuss."

Sharlen stayed where she was, her eyes not leaving the Headmaster's.

"Right to it then?"

She was becoming rather annoyed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, for this is extremely important that I get this fact unbundled, but you do not wish for your father to vanquish Harry Potter." Sharlen just looked at him, unaware of how much her Master would want her to say, how much her father would want her to say. She then shook her head rapidly, so confused by what she'd always been told to repeat and her own agenda of saving Harry. "You have not been keeping it all too quiet that you wish to help Harry. I would humbly ask for you to further explain this to me."

Sharlen took a breath and let it out, muttering, "I don't like that Lupin's back."

"_Professor_ Lupin, Sharlen. And he's only been to see me about you once, to mention your methods of getting to class. But we'll come to that a bit later.

"Now, I do feel it's important for you to tell me yourself that you don't want your father to kill Harry so that I can then freely speak to you because until I can, you can't." His blue eyes seemed to twinkle. "If I may be so bold, I'll go ahead and say that you've never had your father's thirst for the Dark Arts. In fact, you've never had a thirst for anything except a normal life, from what Professor Snape tells me. Yes, I know he's been your guardian since creation," Dumbledore added, sizing up Sharlen's suspicious stare. He did not say 'birth,' but Sharlen had long known that Dumbledore knew this about her. "And I do not know how you originally tie to Harry but I also do not think my knowing is entirely necessary to our discussion."

"No…" Sharlen agreed quietly. "What do you know? About… about Harry's fate? I… I can never really see… too far into his future…"

"What's the farthest into someone's future you've seen, Sharlen?" Dumbledore asked. It unnerved Sharlen to not have any aura to reveal to her if he was genuinely curious or testing knowledge he'd already acquired about her. Auras were her safe house – they couldn't be hoodwinked or tampered with in any way. They were true, trustworthy.

"I… I've seen Draco Malfoy's wife, and his child…" Sharlen said slowly, tasting her words as they left her lips. She remembered her vision of Snape killing Dumbledore when Draco had touched her the first night at Hogwarts and swallowed hard.

"Aha. Confirms my suspicions, then. And how far have you seen into Harry's?"

Sharlen hesitated. "Well I… I don't really know how it works, I don't exactly have someone I can mirror this stuff off of, but I only really ever see Harry's past. The furthest I've seen into his future was last week when I foresaw that he would be the first student Slughorn saw on the grounds." She shook her dark hair out of her eyes. "That was only a few hours, though."

"Do you have any idea, Sharlen, why I've invited Horace Slughorn to come back into this castle?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward almost eagerly.

She had some idea. "He used to be Potions Master."

"Yes, but your guardian is my Potions Master. Hence, they will be sharing classes, not unlike Professor Trelawney and Firenze. Sharing between the years. I daresay Professor Snape is too distracted with you here to deal with the younger students this year, so he has conceded to take the top four years of Potions. He assured me he could handle the workload without the aid of another teacher, but I insisted Slughorn be near me this year. You see, there's a piece of this puzzle that I need filled in…"

Dumbledore gestured to a stone basin filled with what Sharlen realized were swirling thoughts. "I need you to listen very carefully, Sharlen, because after this I'm afraid I must forbid you to mention it to anyone again until I die. Even Harry."

Sharlen didn't question this out loud; he seemed so sure of it, and besides that his cursed hand sat ominously, a reminder that he was marked regardless. "Surely you don't mean Malfoy?" she asked wearily.

"No part of me believes that Draco Malfoy will kill me," Dumbledore said in a final way, signaling that he either did not wish to talk about it or that it paled in comparison to what they had still yet discussed. "I do not wish for his soul to be ripped apart over me."

Sharlen gawked openly at Dumbledore. He knew of Horcruxes, and he knew of her father's. She waited with bated breath to find out how much else he knew.

"I want Slughorn near me this year so I can try and get from him his complete, untampered-with memory of him telling your father while he was still at school about Horcruxes," Dumbledore explained calmly. "My plan is to have Harry get it from him." Dumbledore told Sharlen of Professor Trelawney's prophecy [which she openly could not believe the old bat had predicted], of the lessons he'd be having with Harry this year, and his suspicions of her father's Horcruxes.

"I'm going to be arrogant enough to assume you knew of your father's very dismembered soul," Dumbledore said simply. Sharlen nodded.

"He… wanted to make me one," she muttered, looking again at the floor. She remembered how Harry's scar had hurt him to be near her, though he hadn't admitted to it, and frowned.

Dumbledore nodded. "I had a feeling his snake was more than just a prized pet."

Sharlen just nodded, absently. "I don't know about the others, though. I knew of the ring because he had me help him with the protections on it, and the Gaunt house… and I know of the locket because of Regulus' house-elf…"

She stopped abruptly, feeling a harsh tug in her mind. She was discussing things out loud she knew to be taboo, things she had long since been forbidden to talk about.

"… well he recovered at our house for days, afterward…"

"That's quite alright," Dumbledore assured her, his good hand up to stop her from explaining more. "I don't expect you to go spilling all your father's secrets to me, you have no reason to trust me and I have a good suspicion about these objects to be getting on with myself."

"I have no reason to trust you but no reason to protect him, either," Sharlen hissed. "Why would you not want to know everything I do if it will help Harry? Why have you told me all this, then? What was the point of spilling your little plan to me? If I told him you knew of his precious pieces of soul he would make more, you know. He would redouble their protection, make more, move them, you'd never have half the chance of destroying them."

"Ah, but then Harry would surely be doomed," Dumbledore quipped, a cheery grin on his face. He knew Sharlen had been bluffing. She was well-aware now, having heard the prophecy, of what Harry had to do to survive.

"I feel that's enough of this heavy, burdening subject for now," Dumbledore yielded when met with Sharlen's silence. "You're a very perceptive, intelligent girl, surely you've gathered all you need from what's been told to you. You look uncomfortable. Have I upset you?"

"I… am not used to getting compliments," Sharlen admitted honestly, shrugging. There was no way for her to know if he was being sincere or not but either way there was less of a way for her to lie to him; Dumbledore didn't need auras as she did to see intentions.

"On to the simpler subjects, then," he declared, lightly clapping his hands together, the blackened one barely touching the other. "Professor Snape has brought what I believe are most of your unique talents to my attention and I have held a staff meeting with all of your teachers discussing your movement between classes and your absence from the Great Hall. Another question for you, is have you been eating?"

Sharlen was taken aback and decided, once more, to avoid the old man's gaze. "I… hunt, mostly."

"Not the first unregistered Animagus I've ever had in my school," Dumbledore chuckled. "However I cannot allow you while in my care to succumb to malnutrition. You are more than willing to not use the halls to move from class to class but I'm afraid you must start attending meals in the Great Hall."

She wasn't about to openly argue.

"Now, for my last question," Dumbledore said, looking at her from above the tops of his thin fingers again, "Why did he not name you Riddle?"

"What?" Sharlen laughed derisively, sarcastically before reciting, "'His filthy Muggle father's name?'"

"I would also like to correct you," he said quietly but firmly, before she swept from the office, "Not all the Hallows are dangerous."

"Anything procured by Death is dangerous," Sharlen repeated, through her teeth.

"The Cloak, on the contrary, has never given Harry Potter or any of his relatives any danger."

Remembering the story of the three Peverell brothers, Sharlen had to give the old man that one. She was partially stunned that Harry had the real cloak in his possession and fantasized briefly of him escaping with her under its protection and living far from her father forever. "To answer your question," she said in a quiet voice, glancing back over her shoulder, "It's extremely difficult for me to disobey my father. He always has access to me and I was created to be a weapon of his and nothing more. But I will do everything in my power to save Harry from him. That is all I expect from my life, and I fully intend to lose it trying to succeed." She paused, listening hard for any reactions from Dumbledore. He said nothing. Swallowing hard, she said, "I hope you and Harry will use me appropriately, having this in mind."

"Noted, Miss Down," Dumbledore said easily. "You and I will speak again soon."

Returning her gaze to the door, she asked, "Is this made of yew?"

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "It is indeed."

"Yeah." She gestured toward it roughly and it opened before her. "I won't be touching that."

Sharlen went straight from Dumbledore's office to the Great Hall, where everyone was having dinner. Her head ached as she entered the hall and instead of going to an expectant-looking Draco at the Slytherin table Sharlen headed toward Harry at the Gryffindor one. She sat down next to him on the bench without a word, burying her forehead against his shoulder, and he quickly looked down at her, worried. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

Ron and Hermione, on the other side of the table, looked at each other and waited.

"Dumbledore's making me attend meals now," Sharlen whispered, eyes shut tight. She felt Harry turn toward her and envelope her in his arms, pressing his forehead gently against hers. His skin felt hot against her icy skin, especially his scar. "There's too much… energy…" she whimpered, eyes shut tight against the visions brought on by Harry's touch. She saw him turning pages alone in a room above The Leaky Cauldron.

"I bet it'd be really bad for you, then, if we were near a Quidditch match," Ron chimed in, trying to be conversational. Hermione glared at him, highly disagreeing of his getting involved with Sharlen; it was apparent she felt Harry shouldn't have anything to do with her, either. Sharlen politely smiled at Ron and nodded quickly. She just stared at Hermione and her brilliant red aura; she was angered, and alarmed, by here even being there.

However, she feigned interest. "Uhm, so, what exactly… does it do to you to be around people?" she asked quickly, not sure how to word it politely. "I mean, we've just all noticed you've kept mostly to yourself…" She and Ron seemed to be avoiding discussing Harry's close embrace with her, or the other Gryffindors' confusion.

"It's their energy," Sharlen repeated, feeling dizzy. "It's just exhausting because I can't decipher the emotions fast enough. It's kind of like… when you're making a Felix Felicis solution but you add the infusion of wormwood before the twelfth or too soon after the new moon and it emits Disillusioning Fumes…"

Hermione nodded as though that had made her understand perfectly. Sharlen tried a smile; she knew this girl meant the world to Harry, and had to try to play nicely.

Truthfully, after being kept from people for most of her life, being social was a skill that completely eluded her. Simply speaking to other people—about what, even?—felt bizarre and not entirely desired.

"What can I do to help?" Harry asked. She looked up into his eyes and felt a sudden chill. She looked around and locked eyes with Snape up at the teacher's table. She had been on the end of punishments from him her entire life, and she had never quite seen the face he was making at her now. Still in Harry's arms, this look made her blood run cold; Ron followed her gaze to Snape and openly shuddered. As Harry and Hermione followed suit, Sharlen brought out her flask and took several long sips, feeling a little incorporeal.

Opting to not acknowledge Snape glaring daggers at her, she answered Harry, saying, "I'll be okay after some food. Let's talk about Quidditch."


	7. The Ghost in the Machine

Nestling in to their second full month at Hogwarts, Sharlen's sleep became more fitful by the night. Dumbledore hadn't reached out to speak to her again, and Harry had gone to have mysterious lessons with him twice already. She was becoming concerned with the standing still. Mercifully, it was normal for her not to dream; she simply fell asleep, deeply, saw black and then woke. Now when she closed her eyes, she was filled with unease.

Nearly every night, images plagued her. Since dreams were so few and far-between for her, it was hard to separate them from the very real and true visions she would experience in her waking life. She'd dreamt of the stone guards decorating the outer walls of Hogwarts castle plummeting to the courtyard and rising to march forward. More recently, she dreamt of the Ministry of Magic, or what she supposed it would look like. Frankly, she hadn't an inkling; she'd resigned that the Ministry would never be a place she'd see in her lifetime.

This morning, she woke with a sound somewhere between a scream and a pant, grasping forward frantically. Breathing hard, she looked down at her arms, how they were held out, and then around the room, hoping she hadn't woken anyone. The sun was yet rising. From the positioning of her arms and hands, the tenseness in her muscles, she was about to attack.

She groped inside her head for the wisps of the dream before they disappeared, snatching her little black book and scribbling wildly. '_Who the hell is Kingsley?_' she thought, shaking her head slowly as she furrowed her brow at her words. Opting for shorthand, she recorded whatever words came to her fastest and most clearly, resigning to go back and try and fill in the blanks later. All she needed was the gist; among the other fragments of dreams she'd begun having since arriving at Hogwarts, this one didn't seem to fit or match in any obvious way. Who was Kingsley? Why was she defending him? More importantly, what "burrow?"

Exhaling slowly, Sharlen returned the book to her side table and pulled her knees to her chest, hands in her hair as she tried to steady her breathing. Failing at that, she reached for the flask and took a tentative sip. She was low, again—she'd have to ask Snape for more. She loathed depending on him for anything still; she'd have to ask what it was she was drinking and learn to brew it herself. The last time she'd required a refill, he lashed her to the limits of her consciousness for her closeness to Harry. He said nothing of it, was completely wordless. But she knew it had to be that.

Feeling a little more solid inside herself, Sharlen shakily got out of bed and went to brush her teeth and splash water on her face. She tried not to dwell on the dream, opting instead to try and decipher them later when she had some distance from it. Since her first night in the castle she'd felt weak, constantly; regular meals, her potion from Snape, and flying to classes did nothing to help the underlying exhaustion she experienced, the light-headedness, the shaking. Snape was acting odd, she was constantly at the ready for Dumbledore to call on her again, to put her to use, and she was always warring with herself on what to tell or keep from Harry at this stage. Now that she had met with Dumbeldore, something inside her knew the man had a plan she should try to aid rather than overrule—but Harry was vulnerable going about his school life like this. He needed to be finding Horcruxes and destroying them. That was the only thing that guaranteed his safety.

On top of all that, being around so many people was like living in hell. Being polite—rather, tolerant—of her peers had to be at the forefront of her mind at all times, making normal chat with the semi-odd classmate or partner, or Harry's friends… she silently damned him, watching herself over the sink, for being so well-liked. She'd met more friends of his in the past two months than she had ever met of people in her entire life, strangers and Death Eaters alike. Many of her father's followers didn't know she existed, and probably for the better; it neither seemed relevant nor pertinent that his little personal project be revealed to the masses. Likely it benefited him that she remain a secret as long as possible.

The girl in the mirror had sunken eyes and pale skin, stringy hair and cuts and scratches around her throat from all the mornings she'd woken up to find herself gripping her own neck as if for dear life, as if trying to pry someone's hands away from blocking her airway. They stood out still, red and angry, stark against her pale skin.

Stacey had introduced her to eyeliner and mascara, and she carefully applied it before heading back to her room to change. Normal girls did this, at least that's what she told herself. Normal girls wore makeup and knew how to put their hair up in more ways than a standard ponytail. She was trying to learn, to fit in better, for Harry.

Opting to head down to the dungeons before meeting up with the others for breakfast, Sharlen grabbed the necessities and left her roommates to their sleep. Stacey seemed content, which pleased her; she'd grown rather protective of her and had noted that the girl was particularly attuned to Sharlen's struggles with sleep. Sweeping out of the Slytherin Common Room, she shuddered—maybe her poor sleep could be attributed to all the energy remaining in this castle from years and years of magical life. Surely plenty of ominous events had unfolded, especially in Slytherin's dorms.

Recalling her previous one-on-one encounter with Snape, Sharlen walked slightly past his door, turned, paced past it in the direction she came, and repeated the action again. Tentatively she knocked on the door, gripping her flask hard. She needed this, and he knew it. She also needed to know where they stood.

"Master?" Sharlen called when he didn't answer her knock. His back was to her and he stood over a smoking cauldron. The scent of the room was familiar; he was completing what she needed. Knowing she would be a fool to relax so soon, Sharlen could not help a sigh escaping.

"How good of you to visit," Snape drawled quietly, not turning around. "I figured you'd be by."

"Why don't you tell me what this is and I'll take care of it from now on?" Sharlen asked easily, stopping a few feet behind him. She set her bag on a nearby worktable and held the flask loosely in one hand. Snape said nothing. "Surely you don't want to do this anymore," she added, gesturing to the cauldron, though he had no way of seeing.

"Explain," was all he offered, continuing to stir. He may have been counting.

"This," she exclaimed, a slight edge in her voice. She was tired and anxious. "This potion you've been making me for as long as I can remember. Taking care of me. I know you never wanted this and now it's not necessary anymore. If you tell me what the potion is, I'll take myself completely off your hands and you can be done with me."

Snape turned around slowly. "This brew is very complex," he said nonchalantly, "and you are still in my care."

"Oh please," she began, but Snape interrupted her.

"You are my charge until your father sees fit to relieve me of that position," he said loudly, his voice echoing off the damp bricks though his voice was calm. "Besides you're no better equipped to deal with the outside world than Wormtail. You don't belong here."

"That's not up to you," Sharlen hissed coldly, narrowing her eyes. "I'm allowed to be here and I have my own work to do."

Snape couldn't help but smirk at her. "Ahh yes, Potter," he spat, taking a step closer to her. She stood her ground. "And what exactly is your plan with him, Sharlen? What are your intentions for your dear old friend?"

"I think you know."

Snape remained silent. They stared each other down.

"You and father have your own plans for how all of this ends," she said finally, gesturing to nothing in particular. It took Snape off guard. "So do I."

"It's called Ancora Exspiravit," he muttered finally, snatching her flask and a ladle. Placing a funnel in the spout, her gently poured the potion inside. Sharlen held her breath.

"Will you finally tell me what it's for?" she breathed, watching the steam rise. Snape secured the cap to the flask and walked away to find a larger vile to store the rest.

"I'm confident you can figure it out. Better yet, why not ask your new friend Granger?" he muttered, emptying the cauldron. Her put the full vile of Ancora Exspiravit on a high shelf above his desk where it fit in well with a dozen others. "Feel free to give it a try on your own, surely you could use some extra credit in this class."

The name, if he was being honest, was more than she could have originally hoped from him. With a small nod, she thanked him and went to leave.

"Sharlen," he called to her, something a little more urgent in his voice. She turned back to him, startled. The hot flask was beginning to hurt through her cloak. "You really don't know what you're doing with all this. You need to be careful."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you just going to give me vague warnings from the sidelines of my life?" she asked, clear as a bell. Snape's eyes darted away for a second. "I can't trust you anyway, what with my father hitching a ride inside you now and again."

"That won't happen again," Snape assured her lightly. She rolled her eyes.

"I can't trust you. I think you know why." As she turned to leave she thought she saw a flicker of guilt flash across his face, but thought nothing else of it. Since their last encounter she had spent enough time dwelling on Snape's physical punishment; it wasn't the first time he'd struck her, but if was the first time she'd been beaten by hand rather than by magic. As hellish as he was to have as a guardian, it was far beyond out of character for him, and what was worse was that it was not explained. She had never been a confidant by any means, and growing up in a house with him had proven to be more isolating than anything, but she knew there was so much now he was holding back from her.

Sharlen recalled how it used to be during the school year. After classes every day, if he didn't have any meetings or disciplinary councils with students, he would walk outside the grounds and Apparate to their home outside of London. He brought her assignments from lesson plans the other teachers were working through and they would sit at a table together while she worked and he graded Potions papers. Sharlen grew bored quite often, always being left by herself, and would frequently get up, stare out their kitchen window, and return to the table in a different chair. During the day she barely saw Wormtail at all and would result to watching the life outside the house; she was only allowed out on weekends. Just having Snape's company, albeit silent, was worlds better; sometimes he'd even allow her to open the windows while they worked. Snape's mouth would twitch into a thin line, but he let her be. Sometimes she would make him tea and he'd keep working silently. Once she was in bed, he returned to the castle and Wormtail would stand guard over her.

Since arriving, she had been largely left alone; he monitored her and perhaps was giving her father status reports, but she had no mission (whether she accepted one or not), not a word from her father since her first day, and neither side was moving an inch in either direction.

She didn't know what to expect. It was all too surreal.

Making her way to the Great Hall, Sharlen spotted Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. They sat next to Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw who frightened Sharlen very much and often sat with them and another Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom. Ron had yet to make an appearance, which was not uncommon. Spotting her, Harry stood, continuing his conversation with Hermione and Luna as she walked up and into his embrace. It was casual and practiced by now, something that still washed over her like a dizzying epiphany each time. Six months ago it was a distant dream that she would ever see Harry again, that she would ever speak to him again. Now she could touch him, now she could even kiss him. With a light peck on the temple he said good morning to her. Letting the images play of Harry before a small gathering of wizards at his trial at the Ministry of Magic the year before, Sharlen briefly planted her chin on his chest, looking up.

She didn't want to worry about who had or hadn't made a move or what the plan was. She just wanted to lean up and kiss this boy every hour to make up for all the time they'd lost.

The two rejoined the table and Sharlen greeted the others politely, eyes flitting to meet Luna's and away again. Her aura was white. Just white, all the time. Hope and emptiness, all the time. No matter when Sharlen glimpsed her, this girl radiated both hope and emptiness and it was tragic and horrifying, especially when her soft, quirky disposition already gave nothing away about her. Settling on Hermione, who watched her warily, she said, "I need to go to the library before classes start and I was hoping you'd go with me."

"Uhm, sure," she said carefully, absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair no doubt in an attempt to avoid looking at the marks on Sharlen's neck. No doubt Harry had explained them to her by now. "Why me?"

"Because all the teachers are afraid of me and I have a feeling you'll be more help in there than the librarian, somehow," she answered with a smirk. Hermione granted her a small smile.

"Sure, I'll help. What is it you're looking for?"

"A potion," she said simply, reaching around Harry for a piece of toast. He shared a worried look with Hermione that didn't go unnoticed. Luna watched all of this passively.

"Have you asked Professor Snape?" Neville timidly asked out of nowhere. Sharlen couldn't help but laugh, in a way she hoped was not perceived as unkind.

"What kind of potion?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," Sharlen answered with a shrug, holding up her flask and giving it a little shake, "but it's called 'Ancora Exspiravit' and I've been taking it for years, so I'm clearly behind the game."

Hermione shook her head, confused. "Why would you be taking that?" she asked genuinely.

Sharlen stared at her. "I literally don't know, I just always had to. I found out what it was called today, hence why I'd kind of like to read up on it."

Hermione shook her head again. "'Ancora Exspiravit' means 'ghost anchor.' That potion is meant to anchor specters to our world." Harry and Luna turned their eyes to Sharlen, who narrowed hers suspiciously.

"That can't be right."

"It is," Hermione assured her matter-of-factly. "What we know of ghosts is scarce but we do know that when a person dies they have the option of moving on—that is, finding peace—or staying in this world. A lot of them aren't ready to move on, so they stay here." She explained it all very carefully, not knowing what to make of this.

Sharlen was just angry. "The bastard lied then."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Snape. He told me that's what it was called, but he obviously lied."

"Because you're…not a ghost…?" Harry asked slowly, watching her.

"Of course I'm not a _ghost_!" she exclaimed harshly.

"Okay, okay!" Harry said quickly, trying to soften her. "Just had to be sure, you know, imaginary friend and all." Luna and Neville looked at each other quizzically.

Hermione was watching the two of them carefully, and then briskly stood from the table. "Well, come on then," she said, gesturing Sharlen to her feet. "We haven't much time and there must be more to it than that."

"Or the bastard lied," Sharlen muttered as she stood, looking back at Harry with an apologetic frown on her face. He gave her a reassuring smile and a small wave as she followed Hermione out of the Hall.

Before the two girls arrived in the library, Hermione turned to face Sharlen, which startled her. "Let me help you with that," she said quietly, wand out and pointed to her throat. Unsure and immediately defensive, Sharlen held up both hands and frowned, ready to defend herself if needed. Hermione quickly shook her head. "No, please, the marks on your neck. They look dreadful and you don't want the teachers getting involved. Let me fix them." Tentatively Sharlen nodded and allowed Hermione to do her spell. Unable to see the result, she took Hermione's satisfied smile and quick nod as law and continued into the library. Within minutes, Hermione had five large texts open to the pages they were looking for.

"Well, these aren't horrifying at all," Sharlen said, trying to ease the tension. Truthfully, Hermione looked rather pale; the illustrations differed from each text, but the unanimous conclusion depicted a ghost-like figure being held in structures, objects or inside a human body. Much of the text was in Latin. "Can you read any of this?"

"It says, 'Used to ground vengeful spirits in one place, this brew will keep a ghost trapped inside the drinker and subdued as long as constant doses are delivered for the rest of their natural lives. Failure to keep this potion in the blood, even in small quantities, can make the drinker susceptible to possession.'" Hermione was radiating fear and confusion, her aura spreading out yellow to gray. Sharlen was copying down the ingredients and instructions furiously inside her little black book.

"Thank you for helping me, Hermione," she said quietly, avoiding her eyes. She wasn't sure how to digest this new information, and doing so in front of a stranger was the last thing she wanted to do. "You better hurry, I don't want you to be late to class on my account."

"Sharlen," Hermione whispered, full of purpose, "Why do you take this potion? Who gives it to you?"

"Snape has always made me drink it. I always have it on me," she answered quickly, still copying every line. "I've asked before but he always refused to say anything, and I keep taking it because without it I lose consciousness. I don't know what to tell you. That's everything I know."

Hermione didn't want to say the obvious. "I think you should get Professor McGonagall involved in this."

"No," was all she replied.

"If this means what it says, you're in very real danger," Hermione whispered furiously. "You've only just come back into Harry's life and you owe it to him not to keep yourself in any danger that could take you away again."

Sharlen considered the girl carefully, taken aback by the angle she'd chosen to approach from. "But it's always been like this, I told you. I've always taken this potion. Nothing's changed."

"It's not sustainable," she insisted. "I've only seen a potion this complicated once before and it was the Polyjuice Potion. If I had to brew that all the time…" She shuddered. "Look, there's a lot I don't understand about you and I'm actually quite frightened of you and I don't know why," she admitted hurriedly, glaring, "but being with you put Harry in better spirits than he's been in years, even after you two first reunited. It was immediate. He has more hope now than he's had since before Cedric Diggory was killed. When Sirius died… We've been really worried about him and you're helping."

Sharlen stayed silent.

"Whether you like it or not, you're involved now and Harry has a lot ahead of him." Hermione's voice was fracturing but she maintained conviction in her expression, fists clenched. "That's going to mean accepting help." Snapping two books shut and gathering them in her arms, she turned to leave, assuring her, "We'll figure this out together." And with that, she was gone, taking the books with her to continue her research.

Sharlen decided to sit on her new knowledge about the potion for a while before marching back to Severus and demanding he explain. Over the next week, she worked on brewing it with Hermione in the Room of Requirement, which allowed a constant stream of sunlight the brew needed to mature, and let her jabber on about her theories while vaguely dodging her questions regarding Sharlen's past. Hermione was, in a word, the Inquisition; remembering Hermione's confession about being afraid of her, Sharlen knew she had some wiggle room when it came to answering her questions, but that wouldn't last for long. A few times Sharlen had deflated a little and told her, honestly, that she had no idea what this meant and that her directive was to help Harry with his task, not find out something new and potentially horrible about herself. Hermione could tell she was being sincere—she just couldn't rest on leaving this piece of the puzzle unsolved.

It was a Saturday and the grounds were beginning to cool significantly in the mornings and evenings. Sharlen sat, wrapped in a cloak, holding Harry's in her lap, at the Quidditch field; Harry and the Gryffindor team were having a pep talk in the shelter of the locker room before heading out to practice. Sharlen's eyes moved easily around the pitch, following the colorful banners that lined the walls, a faint smile on her face. Completely alone, she let herself enjoy this aspect of the wizarding world; she had never heard of Quidditch, let alone watched it. There were many aspects of normal life in their world that were unnecessary for her to know about according to her father and Master Severus. When Harry found out, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. He had leapt into a detailed explanation of the game to her, citing from a book Ron had gifted him years before, and while she had enjoyed his enthusiasm, she still needed help to follow what was happening during practice. Hermione had begrudgingly taken up that role between chapters of her school reading. She enjoyed being outdoors and supporting her friends, but the game itself was less than important to her.

As the Gryffindors came out onto the pitch, Sharlen noticed Hermione making her way toward her through the benches. She gave a little wave and returned her eyes to the players. She saw Harry cast her a wave and she touched her fingertips to her lips and held them out to send him a little kiss, elbows on her knees. How had he become such a sweet person? When she'd had to leave him all alone at his aunt and uncle's house all those years ago, the thought of him growing up without any love in his life was heartbreaking. The home he'd found at this school had saved him, no doubt in her mind about it.

A muddy green aura caught her eye and her gaze landed on Ginny Weasley staring up at her, just as Hermione sat beside Sharlen and started to get her belongings organized. Ginny had seen her small gesture to Harry and her face was unreadable; upon meeting her gaze the girl quickly looked down and then turned toward her team and kicked off the ground with her broom and into the air.

"Jealousy…?" Sharlen muttered, half confused and half amused. This was not a color she'd seen often in her isolated life. Hermione settled a giant text onto her legs and turned to Sharlen, confused.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Does Ginny like Harry?" Sharlen asked bluntly, watching the red-haired Chaser fly past them. Hermione gave a little chuckle.

"Well of course she fancies Harry," she said, amused. "She's always had a crush on him, for years now. But she's with Dean Thomas," she explained, waving it off with a brush of her quill and returning her gaze to the book. Sharlen glanced over at it briefly to see if it concerned the potion, but she appeared to be reading about Heffalumps. "The person you probably need to worry about is Cho."

"Cho?" Sharlen repeated, watching Harry giving the Chasers an order from fifty feet above. "I don't know who that is."

"Well she very likely is out of the picture after she blew our secret about Dumbledore's Army last year, but she's a Ravenclaw in our year. She and Harry dated very briefly," she said with a sigh. "I'm sure that's very over."

Sharlen shook her head, amused. None of this seemed important at all. Harry flew over to Sharlen and Hermione about twenty minutes into practice and asked them what their plans were for later in the day, after which Harry invited Sharlen to visit Hagrid with them. She agreed timidly, knowing she made the Gamekeeper nervous, and he flew off again to tell his troops to take a break. Once the whistle sounded, Ginny flew over to the girls as well while all her teammates hit the ground. Flushed pink, her scowl was furious with Sharlen.

"Ron's told me all about you, and your little black book," Ginny spat at her angrily. "I would have thought Harry would know better after the Chamber of Secrets."

Sharlen blanched and looked at Hermione quickly to be reassured. Clearly not wanting to betray her friend Ginny, Hermione kept her head down and her eyes on the book, flipping a page animatedly. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm sure you do!" Ginny shouted, gesturing to the book on Sharlen's lap. "Suspiciously similar piece of dark magic you've given him if you ask me. More familiar than I care to acknowledge. You better watch yourself," she finished, hovering a little higher. "If you hurt him-"

"Oh please," Sharlen hissed, "You'll what? Glower at me?"

"Don't underestimate me," Ginny sneered, rocketing toward the ground beside her brother and Harry.

Sharlen found herself breathing hard and standing and quickly sat, confused. "What am I feeling right now?" she asked Hermione, who looked at her carefully, lightly amused.

"Incredulity," she answered.

"How do you…" Sharlen began, putting her forehead in one palm heavily, "How do you even stand to be around people all the time?"

"Speaking of which, I've been reading about auras," Hermione gushed, quickly replacing the book on her lap with an even heavier one from her bag. Sharlen just stared. "The ability to read auras is a long-forgotten art largely in the wizarding world, so much so that very few claim to practice it. Even fewer have ever claimed to be able to see auras naturally, without casting a spell or practicing a section of divine sight."

"So you're saying I'm a giant freak, basically," Sharlen teased, tucking Harry's cloak tighter around her legs.

"No, I'm saying this might be a clue about why you take that potion," she answered cautiously. Sharlen had been expressly clear about not wanting Hermione to worry too much about the "why" of it, but she just couldn't help herself. "Look, historically it's an exceptionally rare gift that largely comes from both parents being of divinative heritage. So either both of your parents were skilled at Divination-"

"I really wouldn't know, would I?" Sharlen snapped—a bold lie, but one that helped to keep her Hogwarts life from being too complicated.

"…And you not being able to cast spells may mean there's something inside you that makes wands unable to tell clearly what best suits you."

"Enough, please," Sharlen said, turning to her in earnest. There was almost a pang of desperation in her voice. "It's just me in here."

"I…" Hermione stopped herself and slowly closed the book. "The potion should be done tonight."

"Yes," Sharlen agreed, returning her gaze to the players as they took to the air again. "I think you're right.

When Quidditch practice was over, Sharlen helped Hermione gather her schoolwork and the two met their friends outside the Gryffindor locker room. Ron and Harry looked flushed and tired, but happy; the sight made Sharlen positively glow. When he saw her, Harry wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek; she smiled warmly, trying to focus on the coolness of his cheek against hers as he lingered there for a second rather than the image of him suffering through his first Occlumency lesson with Snape just under a year ago. As he pulled back slightly she held up his cloak and he took it with a smile. "You're freezing."

"I'm fine," he assured her. Ron asked Sharlen if Hermione was being any help on her mission to understand Quidditch and Sharlen joked that she was rubbish. Ginny lingered in the background, watching the four of them warily. Dean was there to meet her but she was clearly distracted.

They spent the afternoon in Gryffindor Tower, partially catching up on homework and partially discussing when the first Hogsmeade weekend would be. When dinner came along, Sharlen deviated from the trio on their way to the Hall, saying she had something to check on. Dodging the odd student here and there on her way to the Room of Requirement, Sharlen had to keep reminding herself to breathe. Upon opening the door, she saw the constant stream of sunlight the room had provided the brew was now a regular, darkened, dusk window. Peering over the cauldron, Sharlen saw the familiar scarlet. Carefully ladling a serving into an empty potion cask, she swept from the room and toward the dungeons to Snape's office.

From the looks of it, he was on his way to the Great Hall when she entered and closed the door behind her. Snape looked from her face to the cask warily, leaning on his desk with his long, outstretched fingertips.

"I wanted to ask if you'd check it," she said quietly. Snape held out his other hand without a word and inspected the draft compared to the draft to the extra he'd brewed from her previously.

He couldn't help but turn up one corner of his mouth. "I've taught you well."

"Tell me what it is," she pleaded. She had kept her curiosity and fear hidden well from Hermione, but before him she crumbled. He kept watching her warily, extremely uncomfortable with emotions other than anger and indifference. "Master, why the hell do I drink that."

"You clearly read about it in order to brew it, surely you're more than capable of putting two and two together," he muttered dismissively, handing the cask back to her.

"How can you expect me to be completely passé about there being a ghost inside me?" she shouted, unable to keep the quake out of her voice. When Hermione had suggested there was something inside of her earlier it had shaken her to her core, despite her suspicions; hearing it out loud was a new level of horrific. "How did this happen? Why don't we just let it out?"

"You can't," Snape snapped simply. "Merope has been a part of your foundation since creation and now one cannot be extracted from the other. Even if you stopped taking the potion she wouldn't be unchained from you, she would simply take over your body and you would be a passenger inside her instead."

"She's… a passenger…?" Sharlen breathed, unable to stop herself from shaking. "Who is she?"

"Unimportant."

"Like hell it is!" Sharlen shouted. "Who are you protecting with this secret?"

"You." Snape said finally.

"How much of me is her?" Sharlen demanded, slamming her fist down on the nearest desk. Angry tears were in her eyes. "Have I ever existed?"

"Don't be dramatic," Snape snapped, quickly tiring of the conversation. He looked exhausted and irritated. "You are you wholly, down to every last annoying ounce. You are able to access her abilities and that's largely it, besides trapping a nuisance. The potion dulls her and that's why you take it, so she cannot take over your body and mind. She had the power to see auras and now so do you."

Sharlen's eyes darted to different bricks on the floor, trying to digest this. "My father made me to imprison a ghost?"

"The Dark Lord made you for many reasons," Snape said dismissively, turning away from her. "He means it when he says you are his greatest creation yet."

Disgusted, Sharlen swept from the room and left the door slowly closing behind her. His appetite gone, Snape allowed himself to fall into his chair heavily.


	8. The Village

The first trip to Hogsmeade at the beginning of the school year had taken place when Harry and Sharlen were still getting reacquainted; still unsure around her, especially with his friends so weary of her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione left together and Sharlen watched them walk off to the village with the other students, perched lazily in the Owlery. Leaning on her arms on the window ledge, Hedwig kept her company as she watched them go. She'd asked Severus once if she would be allowed to go and he had wholeheartedly refused and closed the discussion.

The second Hogsmeade trip was coming up, and Sharlen had taken to haunting Snape like a shadow, complaining her way into getting him to let her go. Her mission had been pointedly avoiding the fact that there was a ghost inside her—one she not only had to take a potion to keep at bay but now knew the name of—and threw herself into copying what everyone else was doing: Ignoring the imminent threat of the Dark Lord in favor of typical teenage affairs. She didn't intend to sit alone in the castle again-she felt she had proven herself worthy of leaving the castle grounds. Several times she'd had to go back to McGonagall for a new Hogsmeade permission form because Snape would take them from her and destroy them, to the point where once in the Great Hall Sharlen marched up to the teacher's table, held it up to Snape, and McGonagall shouted "For Merlin's sake, Severus, just sign it already!" at him from several seats down. He'd snatched it from her silently, glowering, but never signed it.

An eventful weekend, the first Quidditch match was scheduled the evening after the older students would be able to go into Hogsmeade, and, as was tradition, the first match was Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. The night before the trip, Sharlen went down to Professor McGonagall's office to hand in an extension; working without a wand, McGonagall had asked her to prepare a presentation on the benefits of wordless spells, as sixth years were beginning to learn to cast them in Transfiguration and Charms.

Truthfully, Professor McGonagall made her extremely nervous—she was always peering at her from across the room, trying to seize her up. "Here you are, Professor," she muttered, handing it to her across the desk. "Here's your copy."

"Thank you, Miss Down," McGonagall said with a nod. "Will you be ready to present this week?"

"Yes. Whenever you'd like." With a little wave, Sharlen turned and began back out the door.

"Miss Down," Professor McGonagall called after her, hands sternly clasped in front of her. She looked intimidating but her aura showed she was uneasy. "How are you adjusting here at Hogwarts?"

Sharlen took a few steps closer to her and said, "I'm feeling right at home. Well, I… I don't know why I said that. I don't really know what that would feel like." McGonagall turned one corner of her mouth up good-naturedly; her indigo pity was deepening. "I really like it here," Sharlen assured her, trying to seem grateful and normal. "I'm very honored to get to learn here and be with other students."

"I know you've been isolated for much of your life," Professor McGonagall replied. "I'm glad you have the opportunity to prove yourself in a positive light here."

"Me too."

"I actually met you once, many years ago," McGonagall continued, peering at her over her glasses. "Severus came to meet with Professor Dumbledore and brought you in with him. You were only four and he held your hand throughout the entire castle." She chuckled a little at the memory.

"He _held_ my _hand_?" Sharlen repeated incredulously.

Professor McGonagall laughed. "He did. You would have followed him around like a little duckling whether he had hold of you or not, though. He is soft somewhere inside, Severus. I know you have known a very different side of him all your life, but he does care about you."

Sharlen said nothing, thinking back to the beating at the start of the semester.

"Well before you go I wanted to give you some advice," McGonagall continued, taking a seat behind her desk. "You are something of a spectacle whether you realize it or not, sitting with the Gryffindors, flying to classes, not using a wand…"

"I don't mean to-" Sharlen started.

McGonagall waved it off. "Oh posh, I think it's delightful. But while the students don't know of your origin, the teachers who do are quite concerned with how close you are to Potter." Sharlen's expression darkened a few degrees. "You can understand the circumstances. Now, Potter and his friends have a knack for… getting in trouble, so to speak. They tend to be in the wrong place at the wrong time quite a lot, actually… And I don't want you to get mixed up in anything that may make it impossible for you to continue with the opportunity to be here in the castle."

"I see," was all she could manage.

"Just be careful," McGonagall urged.

"I will be," Sharlen promised. "Thank you very much, Professor."

When it came down to the morning of the Hogsmeade visit, Sharlen shoved the permission form in front of Snape's face roughly and he tore it from her hands. "YOU'RE NOT GOING," he bellowed. Sharlen scrunched up her face angrily at him.

"You're not serious," she muttered, arms crossed.

"Oh, but I am," he sneered.

Without a sound, Sharlen made a quill from his desk scrawl what could pass as his signature as he held the form in the air, and just as he looked up confusedly she had the form fly out of his hand and soar to the dungeon classroom's door, where Professor McGonagall lingered and snatched it from the air. She met his horrified outrage with a smirk as Sharlen transformed and soared wordlessly through Snape's open window to join the students already headed into town.

Relishing the cold air against her wings, Sharlen didn't even look back to see Snape's appalled face. From above she could easily see the trio making their way to the town and quickly dived down to greet them. Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Luna walked with them and were startled when she landed on Harry's shoulder. She playfully nipped at his ear and he ruffled her feathers.

"You got his permission?" he exclaimed, genuinely surprised. She clicked her beak.

"Hedwig?" Ginny asked.

Sharlen flew to the ground from Harry's shoulder, transforming, a smirk on her face. "Not quite."

"WICKED," Neville and Dean said together. "You're an Animagus!"

"Who even _are_ you?" Ginny said as she rolled her eyes, grabbed Dean's arm, and hurried forward without the rest of them.

"Amazing, right?" Sharlen gushed, ignoring Ginny as the group began walking again. "McGonagall helped a lot. We pretty much tricked him. Also I forged his signature. It's all set." Hermione and Ron glanced at each other and shrugged.

"I'm glad you could make it," Harry said, putting an arm around her shoulder. There was several feet of snow on the ground now, so everyone was bundled up in scarves, hats, and mittens; Sharlen's battered cloak and scarf were torn, but did the job.

"Me too," she said excitedly, watching the other students trudging forward ahead of them. "I've never been to town before."

"You mean you've never been to Hogsmeade before?" Ron asked. "I mean, how could you, this is your first year here."

"Any town!" she responded, grinning. The five of them slowed, staring at her as if she had three heads. Sharlen could hardly notice; after weeks of obsessing over the ghost she caged inside her, escaping the cage she'd been in her whole life was supremely liberating.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ron asked, brow furrowed as he waved his arms animatedly. "How have you not been to any town, ever? You have gone outside, yes?"

"Well yes," Sharlen admitted, linking arms with Harry. She became acutely aware that the five of them were staring at her. "I've really only seen the three houses I've grown up in, Malfoy Manor, my old school, Harry's relatives' house, the meadow… and now the castle. Hogwarts is easily 50% of all the world I've seen." She said it nonchalantly, conversationally. Everywhere she looked, there was white-the starkness was so beautiful. "Hogwarts is so big. It's really amazing."

"Snape didn't let you go out _among people_?" Ron exclaimed, completely abashed. He really wouldn't let this go. Sharlen looked at him blankly. "You've never been to a _store_ or a _restaurant_ or _swimming_ or anything at all?"

"Well no," she answered, as if it was obvious. "Sometimes I could go out in the yard, though." She watched the snow flurrying around them. "But never in the snow. It leaves tracks. Harry, I don't remember, did we ever go swimming…?"

Harry stopped and pulled her to him tightly, holding her for several long moments. Startled, Sharlen glanced around at the others, who were looking at her with pity on their faces. Even Luna's white aura was tingeing indigo. "Oh no, guys," she muttered against Harry's shoulder, "you're sad. Did I make you sad?"

"In the summer you should come see the Dirigible Plums with my dad and I," Luna said softly, brightly. "Or maybe we could go looking for Wrackspurts. Our woods are full of them."

"I used to go to the Forest of Dean with my parents, when I was little," Hermione added. "I know we're traveling for Christmas holiday this year, too. You are more than welcome to join us."

"Or come with Harry and I to my house!" Ron added.

Sharlen was completely speechless. She looked at her hands, overwhelmed by their words. Finally she looked at each in turn, smiling. "You are really the only people who have ever shown me kindness. I am honored just to spend time with you." They smiled back at her and she could see their heavy hearts all around them; she felt extremely self-conscious. "I am sorry I said all of that," she muttered, forehead in her hand, embarrassed the longer time stretched on. "I haven't had much experience with people. I don't know social rules."

Harry put his arm back around her waist and started them forward again. "Come on," he urged her, trying to ease how overwhelmed she visibly was, "We have a lot to show you today." The two walked slightly behind the others as they entered in Hogsmeade and Harry asked if she was okay.

"Of course," she said, meeting his eyes. "I'm very excited to experience this with all of you. And I really feel bad about making all of you uncomfortable back there. I didn't mean to. What I've 'missed out on' doesn't really bother me because I never knew it to miss it. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded and gave her a brief squeeze. "It does."

There were so many people in Hogsmeade that it was all Sharlen could do to keep up with the group as they walked around to see the wreaths on doors and lights strung between buildings. They walked by the Shrieking Shack and recalled the night they met Sirius (and Pettigrew, who Sharlen kept silent about). She was delighted in Zonko's Joke Shop when she saw the dragon lighting candies as you put in money for them, unable to stop laughing at how small it was ("You should see all the dragons my brother Charlie handles in Romania," Ron boasted proudly). They brought Sharlen to Honeydukes where she had her first Chocolate Frog ("How in the world have you never had this. How," Ron kept saying over and over again until Hermione finally hit him), and split up with Neville and Luna who opted to go to Dogweed and Deathcap, a Herbology shop, when they went in to the Three Broomsticks for Butterbeers. Sharlen tried not to look too closely at the people; there were all sorts there and she wanted to seem like she belonged. When a waitress came to take their order and Hermione asked for four Butterbeers, Sharlen protested.

"I don't have any money, I'm fine," she said hurriedly. "I'm all set."

Harry laughed and assured her he had it covered. "Don't be silly. This is one thing you absolutely must try." Watching the waitress go, Harry noticed Slughorn up at the bar and quickly turned around to Hermione and Ron. "He's here."

"Who?" Sharlen asked, twisting around to see.

"That's Professor Slughorn," Harry said, gesturing low on the table. "Dumbledore wants me to talk to him about Voldemort."

Sharlen began coughing after a quick gasp of breath. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, "I forget that some people are afraid of the name."

"I'm not afraid," she said meaningfully.

"Bloody hell," Ron growled, awkwardly pulling his chair in tighter to the table. The three of them turned to follow his gaze to Dean and Ginny in the corner just as they started kissing. "I'd like to leave."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione and Sharlen chorused together, rolling their eyes.

"That happens to be my sister!"

"Oh please," Hermione said, amused. "What if she looked over here and saw you snogging me, would you expect her to get up and leave?" Graciously for all of them, the Butterbeers arrived to save them all from talking any further about it. Before Sharlen had taken her first sip, Slughorn approached the table, beaming, and Harry stood to greet him. The two talked pleasantly about the Three Broomsticks until Slughorn mentioned a dinner party, inviting Harry and Hermione who said they'd be delighted to go. Ron and Sharlen shared a look, feeling only slightly put out as Slughorn told Ron good day and pointedly avoided Sharlen entirely. She watched his aura as he went; he was petrified of her.

When she finally took a sip of the Butterbeer she whispered an eager, "This is delicious," but was only able to finish half of it, not used to richer beverages.

Content with bellies full of warm drinks, the four of them opted to head back to the castle once they were sure Sharlen had been given a sufficient taste of the wonderful and the mundane (she had insisted on stopping in a yarn shop, truly not understanding how commonplace a shop where all the walls were lined with various-colored yarns was). The snow was picking up, and Hermione linked arms between Ron and Harry, Sharlen holding Harry's other hand.

Then one of the girls several feet before them screamed, sending chills hard and fast down their spines. They ran forward to see what was happening and saw Katie Bell shaking on the ground, staring at the sky.

Her body began to hover and throw itself side to side, finally rising high up in the air. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Katie's friend stared at her horrified while Sharlen raised her hands; she had seen curses like this before.

"I told her not to touch it!" the friend cried, watching Katie high above.

Sharlen braced herself, waiting, and when Katie finally dropped she used the _Arresto Momentum_ spell to stop her from slamming into the ground. Lowering her gently onto the snow, Sharlen rand and slid over to her; her eyes were wide and her head shook fitfully. Looking around wildly, she saw Harry inspecting the necklace, half out of its wrappings, that Katie must have opened and touched. "Harry, stay away from it!" she shouted, throwing a hand out to vanish the necklace back inside its wrappings and close it up. Keeping one hand held out to keep the necklace hovering safely away from them, Sharlen ripped off her other glove with her teeth and brought her hand to Katie's freezing face. It occurred to her as she waited for images to flood her senses that she had just promised McGonagall she wouldn't get into any trouble.

Harry watched Sharlen's wide eyes, searching Katie's body distractedly, and said, "What's the vision? What do you see?"

"Vision?" Hermione asked.

"She gets visions when she touches someone skin-to-skin," Harry muttered darkly, watching. They heard great footfalls behind them-Hagrid.

"That's got to be a bummer," Ron muttered, still staring horrified at Katie.

"I don't see anything," Sharlen said, panicking. She moved her hand down Katie's cheek to her neck. "She's empty."

Before they could ask what that meant, Hagrid met them and scooped Katie up. "Saw ther whole thing," he shouted over the snow. "We need ter get 'er back to the castle. And do _not_ touch that necklace!" Harry helped Sharlen up from her knees in the snow and, still guiding the necklace box through the air, followed Hagrid quickly back to Hogwarts.

Once Katie and her friend were taken to the hospital wing it was deduced that she would need to be transferred to St. Mungo's and was taken via Floo along with Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore was travelling away from the castle, so McGonagall and Snape met to examine the necklace, holding Sharlen and the trio present to explain what they saw.

Sharlen had set the box down on a podium at the head of McGonagall's classroom and narrowed her eyes as the box unwrapped to display the necklace on the velvet pillow it sat on. At her left shoulder, Ron leaned over and whispered, "I don't think I'll ever get use to you just _making things move_ without saying anything." Harry was staring hard at the necklace, fists clenched.

Clearly distressed, McGonagall turned away from the necklace and addressed the trio. "Why is it that when something happens, it is _always_ you three?" She threw a look at Sharlen who mouthed "I'm sorry" in response. "That was quick thinking not touching the necklace, Miss Down."

Snape swept in and stood by McGonagall to examine the necklace. Wand raised, he brought it up and turned it to inspect it, mouth slightly open. "What do you think, Severus?" McGonagall asked in barely more than a whisper.

"I think Miss Bell is lucky to be alive," he said honestly.

"She was cursed wasn't she?" Harry started, stepping forward. Neither professor turned from the necklace. "I know Katie; off the Quidditch pitch she wouldn't hurt a fly. If she was delivering that to Professor Dumbledore, she wasn't doing it knowingly."

"She, she was cursed," McGonagall said sadly.

"It was Malfoy," Harry said boldly. Everyone turned to look at him, Sharlen sharpest of all.

"That is a very serious accusation, Potter," McGonagall said, slightly taken aback.

"Indeed," Snape muttered darkly. "Your evidence?"

"I just know," Harry said, staring him down.

"You just… know," Snape repeated slowly. Sharlen had the terrible urge to jump between them; she forgot often that Snape and Harry had their own history together, that he had been interacting with Harry for six years without her fully understanding their dynamic. Snape continued, straight-faced. "You astonish me with your gifts Potter, gifts mere mortals would only dream of possessing. How grand it must be… to be the Chosen One."

McGonagall blanched and looked at him as if she thought that was very poor bait to set for him; meanwhile, Harry's aura flamed with black hatred. "I think you should all go back to your dormitories," McGonagall ordered quietly. "All of you," she concluded, looking at Sharlen. The trio turned to go, Harry reluctantly budging only when Sharlen pulled on his sleeve.

"Miss Down, come back here," Snape ordered, making her stop in her tracks. Frustrated, McGonagall closed the necklace back in its box with a swipe of her wand.

Her hand in his, Harry clearly wanted her to go with them so they could discuss what happened. She shook her head at him sadly and let his hand go, turning to her Master. No one spoke until the trio left. "Yes Professor?"

"I hope you enjoyed your outing," he drawled, hands in front of him. "You will not be going out again."

"I did nothing wrong," she said sternly, staring him down.

McGonagall protested as well. "Severus, it was lucky she was there. Who knows what could have happened if she hadn't secured the necklace?"

"I swore to protect you," he hissed at Sharlen, whose shock showed plainly on her face. "You are my charge and I want you where I can keep an eye on you."

"Then you come out too next time," she threw at him, arms crossed. "Goodness knows you could use the fresh air."

McGonagall tried not to smile.

Clearly self-conscious in front of McGonagall, Snape said, "Get to your dormitory. We'll discuss this later." Sharlen wordlessly obeyed, turning on her heel to set off the way they'd gone. "To the _Slytherin_ dormitories, Sharlen!" he called after her. She didn't acknowledge him.

Pulling out her black book as she walked, she saw a note from Harry. "_I've seen that necklace before at Borgin and Burkes_," it read, written hastily. "_I know it was him_."

Sharlen slowed and stopped to sit in one of the giant window sills lining the hallway, looking out to the courtyard. She held the book close to her chest and focused on her breathing; the absence of Katie when she touched her had really shaken her, as had Harry's insistence that Draco had done this. Her mind was racing; the blond-haired boy who had chased her around hallways and terrorized her when they were young was now set to kill one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. Katie's friend had explained that she was going to deliver the package to Dumbledore; Sharlen was afraid Harry was right. The past several weeks Draco had looked as if he was wasting away-less cocky and more hostile, especially with her. Avoidant, even. Pulling out a quill, Sharlen replied, "_I believe you_," and set off for the Slytherin dorms.

Entering the Slytherin common room, Sharlen found Draco with Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Pansy was nowhere to be seen, thankfully; it was bad enough Sharlen slept in the same room with someone so insufferable. She walked over to them by the fire where they quickly ceased their muttering and looked at her suspiciously. Sharlen knelt before Draco to look him in the eyes; he was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Inches from his face, she searched him; his aura was a dull gray throughout, which was severely unhealthy. "I'm only going to ask this once," she said quietly, hands in her lap. His eyes were wide and he was paler than usual. "Please abandon this mission before anyone else gets hurt."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he spat at her, sitting back in his chair forcefully. Sharlen didn't move.

"She could have died, Draco," she said quietly, trying to spare the ears of others in the common room.

"You think I don't know that?!" he shouted, standing and hitting an adjacent vase in her direction. He stormed away, his lackeys close behind, and left her on the floor, torn over her lifelong loyalties and what she knew was right. She took her book out onto her lap again and wrote, "_I know you're right. We need to keep an eye on him_."


	9. The Blackout

Sharlen spent the next couple weeks trying to trail Draco with the help of Harry and his Marauder's Map; she couldn't get Snape to tell her what Malfoy was up to or even to admit he knew anything about it, and how dismissive he was with her just made her suspicions stronger. She knew his goal-but one attempt had already been thwarted and a student nearly killed, so she recognized that it was time to step in. When the two of them weren't pouring over the Marauder's Map and musing over why he was disappearing into the Room of Requirement, Harry was reading through the Half-Blood Prince's potion book-something Sharlen hadn't noticed. Snape had insisted the Gryffindors be transferred into Slughorn's Potions class, most likely to keep Sharlen and Harry apart for slightly longer during the day, and the switch had been made in the third week of classes. He also cited that Harry and Ron hadn't gotten an O.W.L. level high enough to make it into Snape's sixth year Potions, which was likely how he got the change approved.

She simply thought he was interested in Potions now that he had classes with Slughorn, and that Hermione tutted with disapproval because he was excelling in it past her. With Quidditch practices and midterms, Sharlen noted that the trio spent all hours together and started feeling strange intruding on them, even when studying. What was worse was she knew Harry had been meeting with Dumbledore but hadn't told her why-and Dumbledore hadn't called on her again, either.

On the day of the first match, Harry had let Sharlen know it wouldn't bother him for her to sit in the Slytherin stands, and she told him that was preposterous. "I'm on your team," she said softly, reaching up to kiss him. Harry watched her carefully as they pulled away and her eyes stayed closed, waiting for the vision to pass. She never shared what she saw with him unless he specifically asked.

Harry was dressed for the match and they were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall early, hoping to get some alone time before everyone else showed up. The halls were already buzzing with excitement; the rivalry of these two houses brought the whole castle alive. Leaning on the table, Harry smirked at her. "I know you are, but the Slytherins will actually lose it if you don't at least sit over there."

"I'll sit wherever I want," she huffed jokingly.

"Keep Stacey company," he said softly near her ear. It made her shiver.

"Stacey will sit with us, of course," Sharlen sneered playfully.

Soon Hermione joined them, then Luna and Neville, and eventually Ron, pale as a sheet, tinged practically green with anxiety. A black cloud billowed about him, his aura completely overtaken with nervousness. He met Harry's eyes briefly, closed his, and shook his head with lips pursed.

"This will be a disaster," he muttered forebodingly. Harry shook his head defiantly.

"You'll be brilliant."

"I'm resigning," Ron said sickly. "After today, McClaggen can have my spot."

"Fair enough," Harry said, setting a cup before Ron heavily and purposefully. Sharlen eyed him warily. "Juice."

Ron eyed the cup with disdain as Luna poked her head across the table, shadowed by her giant Gryffindor lion head. "Is it a tonic?" she asked Harry airily, always seconds from floating off the ground. Everyone looked at Luna with confusion—it was clearly pumpkin juice. "Is that what you put in his cup?"

Nostrils flared and eyebrows narrowed, Hermione's head turned toward Harry so quickly Sharlen was sure it would keep turning and fly off her shoulders into the ether. They saw Harry putting away a small, glinting glass vial and Hermione gasped. "You _didn't_! You could be _expelled for that_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said quickly to her, eyebrows raised. Sharlen was completely lost.

"What was that?"

"Don't drink it, Ron! It's cheating!" Hermione exclaimed in a loud whisper, but he already grinningly had the cup to his lips and was drinking deeply.

"I feel good," Ron said after a few seconds, grinning stupidly. "I feel excellent." The two boys grasped hands, stood from the table, and set off toward the Quidditch pitch. Hermione was beside herself.

"Hermione," Sharlen hissed, sliding down toward the girl to further demand her attention. Out the corner of her eye, Sharlen noticed Stacey heading her way. "What the hell is going on?"

"_Felix Felicis_," Hermione growled, glancing around to ensure no one heard her. She was fuming. "Oh I know Ron is rubbish when he gets too into his own head but I never thought Harry would cheat to win a _stupid game_!"

"Where in the world would Harry have gotten his hands on a bottle of that?" Sharlen asked quietly, not understanding.

"He won it in Potions," Hermione answered simply, practically pouting. "Thanks to the Half-Blood Prince."

Sharlen knew Harry used to hate Potions and hated Snape even more, and that Dumbledore wanted him to become closer to Slughorn, so she hadn't thought much of it that he hardly ever talked about that class.

"I'm going to need that explained really soon," Sharlen muttered to her just as Stacey sat down beside her. The other Gryffindors had become used to the two Slytherin girls being at their table, but Sharlen always felt self-conscious about it without Harry around. Hermione never seemed to notice. Offering a brief greeting to Stacey, Sharlen tried to shake herself out of whatever weirdness had just occurred right in front of her.

"I have banners!" Stacey exclaimed loudly, "but I wasn't sure which ones you'd want…" She held up self-slithering Slytherin silver-and-emerald felt banners and quivering lion gold-and-scarlet felt banners that actually roared.

"I'm going to pass, actually," Sharlen said with a grimace she hoped could pass a as a smile. Stacey saw through her knowingly, but accepted her rejection with a small smile and a sticker to the cheek. "I don't even know if I'll be able to handle being around so many excited people."

"Oh you have to be there," Neville exclaimed, "Harry will love it!" Sharlen gave him a good-natured smile, knowing he was right.

"Those are wonderful," Luna told Stacey dreamily. Stacey grinned and handed the girl a Gryffindor banner and a matching lion sticker. Luna stuck the sticker to her palm and thanked her.

"These really are good…" Hermione said, giggling at the snakes. "You must be very skilled with charms."

"It's my favorite class!" Stacey gushed. "Sharlen, where are we sitting?"

Sharlen was feeling dizzy and stressed out. This was such a menial detail in her life and somehow everyone needed an answer to it. Neville's pitiful smile was breaking her heart, but she really didn't know if she'd be able to make it through an actual Quidditch match and stay conscious. "I don't know, Stacey… Where do you usually sit?"

"Oh, I'll sit anywhere," she said earnestly. "Usually with the Ravenclaws." Sharlen nodded. Most of her friends were in Ravenclaw.

"Well of course you can sit with us, if you like," Hermione said with an accepting smile. Stacey happily distributed the rest of the Gryffindor banners to Hermione and Neville and left to hand the Slytherin ones to her and Sharlen's roommates, saying she'd see them all at the match.

With some persuasion, Hermione, Luna, and Neville were able to get her out into the stands on the Quidditch pitch. With the other two distracted by the start of the game, Sharlen wanted to get to the bottom of the potion business before she very surely passed out. "What the hell is a Half-Blood Prince?" Sharlen said beside her, more of a command than a question.

"Harry and Ron didn't have the right Potions books for Slughorn's class," Hermione explained, eyes on Ron. "Slughorn had them get extras, and Harry got this really beat-up text with all these extra scrawled instructions in them and he was following those rather than the real, printed instructions. You know, it was really unsafe," she said matter-of-factly, pausing to cheer as Ginny intercepted the Quaffle. Sharlen silently urged her to hurry; she was fading fast. "Anyway, the book belongs to the 'Half-Blood Prince' and I haven't been able to find anything about him at all in anything I've read. Harry won the Felix Felicis following alternative directions from that book."

"I see," Sharlen said, looking around her for a quick getaway. "Sounds like cheating."

"That's what _I_ thought!" Hermione exclaimed loudly as a bell rang, signaling a point for Slytherin. "But I never expected him to use it during a game. That's completely awful."

"I have to go," Sharlen said, swaying. Hermione and Neville looked at her suddenly, frightened.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked.

Sharlen was starting to panic. Everywhere she looked there wasn't a single empty seat. She felt her limbs getting lighter…

"Transform!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. "Sharlen, transform! That might make it easier!"

Without a word, Sharlen transformed into an owl and took off, momentarily distracting the other Gryffindors around them. Careful to keep out of the defined match area, Sharlen soared around the outskirts of the pitch, trying to calm down. She settled finally at the highest point of the pitch, above Dumbledore's section, and continued to watch the game from there. Hermione had been right, this made things much easier. The potion crossed her mind and she made a mental note to drink some when she felt able to get back into her body. Dumbledore turned at one point and tipped his head to her in greeting before returning to the game. She silently scowled at him, wanting him to tell her what to do or what to say, what to reveal, how to help. His silence was maddening.

She had to admit, Ron was brilliant. He didn't let the Quaffle in once, and by the time Harry caught the Snitch Slytherin didn't stand a chance anyway. Sharlen hooted happily in support of Harry, who she knew was looking toward Hermione and the others for her. Glancing that way, Sharlen noted Lavender Brown shouting far too enthusiastically in Ron's direction, much to Hermione's weariness. As Harry met his teammates on the pitch below and they swarmed Ron for hugs and plenty of cheering, Sharlen swooped down and landed on his shoulder. Harry ran his fingers along the feathers of her back and she nuzzled behind his ear with her beak, hooting softly.

Next to her brother, Ginny watched Sharlen and Harry with a blank look on her face.

After the game, Sharlen promised Harry she would meet up with them in the Gryffindor Common Room. She spent the afternoon with Stacey, as promised, working on Charms homework and occasionally recapping the game. Sharlen left out the part about Ron taking the potion; she didn't care either way, but certainly all the other students would.

"You're so distant lately," Stacey remarked as Sharlen stared out the window. Truthfully, she was exhausted; it felt like she had been running a low-grade illness since she came to Hogwarts, which was so much different than anything she'd ever experienced. She was still trying to process what Dumbledore had talked to her about… and the knowledge of what she'd been drinking from Snape all these years. That and keeping up with her classes…

"I'm sorry," Sharlen said, honestly, fishing around in her school bag. With gloved hands, she placed a sticker against Stacey's knuckles: a tiny rainbow. "I haven't been in a real school in such a long time… and I haven't really ever been around people, at all." Stacey sat up straighter and watched her with pity growing on her face. "Stop," Sharlen warned, one eyebrow arched. "Don't look at me like that. Everyone looks at me like that; I almost miss the fearful looks. I'm adjusting fine."

"It's not that," Stacey assured her, sighing longingly. "You just must have been so lonely! That kind of isolation can make someone insane."

"Well yes," Sharlen agreed, thinking back on all those afternoons she'd spent waiting for Master Severus, who was horrible company, to get home—the happiness she felt to see him because she was at least seeing someone. "But if you're driven toward something, it can also make you more focused."

"I guess so…" Stacey put down her quill and grabbed a bottle of nail polish. "You look a little pale. Let's take a break."

Reluctantly Sharlen removed her gloves and allowed Stacey to paint her nails dark gray while they gossiped about the girls in their classes, and the boys; Stacey asked her about Harry and when she'd see him again while their nails dried. Sharlen couldn't stop staring at them; she loved the way it looked. "I'm heading over to the Gryffindor dorms in a little while."

"Ooh, he will be in such a good mood. They were amazing today!" Stacey gushed. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she finished with a wink.

Sharlen rolled her eyes playfully. This entire life was surreal—she couldn't bring herself to have expectations about any of it. It was all she could do to keep up with what got thrown at her next.

When Sharlen found herself in front of the Fat Lady, she muttered the password and was let in reluctantly. The portrait knew, of course, that she wasn't a Gryffindor, but considering the party inside, she could hardly protest. As she walked through the porthole, loud cheers met her and she quickly found Harry talking to Dean and Ginny. Ron was being thumped on the back and chorused with what sounded like "Weasley is our king," in various different phrasing. Sharlen walked up behind Harry and linked hands with his; the feel of her gloves alerted him and he turned around with a grin, quickly kissing her and lifting her by the waist. Sharlen couldn't help but laugh; she pointedly realized Ginny looking away. Harry told her to follow him and led her up to the boys' dorms by the hand; Ginny met Hermione's eyes as the two disappeared, and Hermione shook her head with a smirk.

"Dean, I think Ginny and I could use a drink," she said playfully.

Harry fumbled behind Sharlen with the door, holding her up around her lower back when it fell open behind them. She could see his contentment all around him, and as he led her to his bed and fell down onto her, kissing her, she couldn't help but let herself relax into him. It delighted her to see him so happy.

"I want to feel your skin…" Harry muttered against her neck, running his hands down her arms. She was beginning to see further and further into Harry's future each time they touched; now she saw him asleep in an arm-chair in an old house, Hermione on the opposite couch, holding hands with Ron who was asleep on the floor. She instinctively tried to shake the vision away as he kissed her neck, following up her jaw line.

"I know," she said honestly, smiling up at him as he pulled back. She ran her gloved hands down his chest and watched the longing in his eyes. She liked the weight of him on her. "But I don't know how this works," she admitted, grinning down at him. "I've never had prolonged skin-to-skin contact."

"I leave it to you," he said with a grin, lacing their fingers. Locking eyes with him, Sharlen removed her gloves one at a time. She ran her hands up his sides, taking his shirt over his head along the way, and tried to see him despite the vision of him training students in the Room of Requirement. She hoped that with enough constant contact, the visions would stop. "This seems like such a small thing," he breathed, grinning down at her, "but your hands against my skin just feel amazing right now."

Sharlen leaned up to kiss him and tried to leave behind all that had come to light since she first came to the castle, but as his hands slid over her sides and up her shirt, the visions just became stronger; Harry and Dudley running from Dementors, Harry and Ron watching a chocolate frog jump out the window, Harry submerged in the Pensieve. She was finding it extremely hard to concentrate and eventually broke free. "I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. She hoped he wasn't too disappointed. "I thought the visions would stop after a while but they're just getting worse."

Harry laughed a little and ran a hand through his hair. "It's okay, Sharlen," he assured her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "We should probably research this condition of yours a little bit, hmm?"

She giggled and nodded, replacing her shirt and gloves. "It was nice while it lasted."

"Let's head back down," Harry said, taking her hand. The two walked down the winding staircase with their arms around each other's waists, smiling despite themselves, and they walked up to meet Hermione. She, like everyone else, was watching Ron beam down at everyone from a coffee table. Harry clapped and shouted for his best friend.

"You shouldn't have done it you know," Hermione said, smirking without wanting to.

Straight-faced, Harry held up the vile of Felix Felicis, which was full. Sharlen laughed out loud. "You didn't give it to him!" she exclaimed.

Hermione stared. "Ron only thought you did." Harry nodded and folded his arms, smug.

"He just needed a confidence boost," Sharlen purred, hugging Harry around the middle. At that moment, Lavender Brown joined Ron on the coffee table, latched onto him, and the two began snogging eagerly in front of everyone.

In unison, Harry and Sharlen turned with horror to see Hermione's reaction, but she was already heading for the door. "I have to go after her," Harry said apologetically. Sharlen gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I know. It's okay." She watched him go and said, "I'll be in the library researching my condition." Harry winked and then was gone.

Pushing past the celebrating Gryffindors, Sharlen felt her limbs lightening again. She put one hand to her head as she made her way to the porthole and out into the hallway, breathing harder than she intended to. Trying to shake off the feeling, she made her way to the library and tried to focus on which books may have answers for how to make her contact visions to stop. Sitting down with the large tomes, she thought briefly that Trelawney may actually be of some assistance.

After turning a few pages she brought her fingertips to her lips-they were numb. Eyes fluttering, she searched her bag for her flask, but it wasn't with her. Vision tunneling, her head fell heavily onto the pages in front of her.

Shaken awake in Hagrid's cabin, Sharlen's eyes opened to the lit gas lamps along the faraway ceiling. As her eyes adjusted, it came a little closer. Groaning, she brought one hand to her aching head. The sound of Harry's sigh brought her closer to consciousness.

"Harry… where?" was all she could manage. Hagrid tipped a flagon of hot Butterbeer into her mouth. She sputtered for a second and let the heat wash over her, teeth chattering wildly.

"You're in Hagrid's cabin," he said softly, kissing her forehead. A quick flash of Harry pinned to her grandfather's grave made her flinch and sharply exhale. Hagrid and Ron exchanged a look, but Harry didn't seem to notice her reacting to his touch anymore. "Ron and I just found you by the lake in the rain. You've been gone for a day and a half."

"How did you find me?" she asked, breathless and somehow parched for water.

"I'm able to do a locator spell on my book, which leads me to yours," Harry said, brushing her damp hair away from her eyes.

"That's very clever," she said quietly. The boys chuckled.

"What were you doing out in the rain like that?" Ron asked carefully. "You didn't… fall asleep out there…?"

"I don't even recall going out there," she said finally, finding her voice. "I was gone _how_ long?"

"More than a day," Harry repeated, one hand gripping hers. His green eyes were clouded with both worry and relief. "I had no idea where you were. You really scared me."

Sharlen sat up, despite the men's protests, and accepted a towel draped over her shoulders by Ron. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice a little fearful. "I would never mean to scare you like that. I promise not to disappear on you again." She held his face in her hands and he smiled at her affectionately, relieved. Sharlen sighed again and tried not to shake too visibly; she hadn't told Harry about the ghost, and she was afraid it might be time. "I don't know how I got there. I didn't know I was missing."

"You were last seen in the library," Ron offered. "Then one of the second-years said you got up and walked out without putting any books away as if you had no idea where you were."

"I see," she said shakily.

A loud rapping on the door perked them up before Snape let himself in.

"So here you are," Snape sneered quietly from the doorway. His hair and robes were wet and Sharlen saw his aura dark, muddy blue fading into the soft blue of relief. The black of his inner band was a constant as ever. Long-term unforgiveness. "Where have you been?"

"I don't know," she said earnestly. She stared at Snape meaningfully and his eyes met hers blankly in return. Harry stood up between her and Snape protectively.

"And of course you just have to be involved, Potter," Snape sneered.

"Harry an' Ron found her by the lake, professor," Hagrid submitted, trying to diffuse the ample tension between Snape and Harry that now permeated his small home. "She'll catch 'er death if she don' get warm and dry soon."

Snape reached forward, snatched Sharlen by the shoulder of her robes, and pulled her from the table. "Back to the castle, all of you," is all he said.

"Harry-" Sharlen called behind her, frightened. The reality of her not being herself for an extended period of time was sinking in, and she wanted the protective enclosure of Harry around her.

"Where are you taking her?" Ron called after her as Snape pulled the door back open.

"That's really none of your concern Mr. Weasley," he called back, hoisting Sharlen out into the darkness. Harry clenched and unclenched his fists, knowing he was her guardian and he couldn't object.

"If he hurts her again, I'll kill him," Harry said firmly, turning back to Ron and Hagrid.

"Blimey Harry, what'r you talkin' abou'?" Hagrid exclaimed loudly. "He's a Hogwarts teacher! And part of the Order-"

"She didn't _confirm_ it but near the start of term I know he beat her. She limped for a week." Harry shook himself, disgusted. "Thank you for letting us bring her here, Hagrid."

Hagrid watched the two stand to go, feeling sheepish. "Well o'course, Harry," he mumbled. "I have my 'ang-ups abou' 'er, but I know she's special ter ya and Dumbledore seems to trust 'er." Harry put a reassuring hand on Hagrid's arm and left with Ron close behind him.

"I can manage," Sharlen muttered as Snape dragged her down to the dungeons. She was practically convulsing from the chill inside her. He only let go of her drenched robes when they entered the threshold of his office. He instructed her to shut the door and she heard it swing closed behind her. "Look, before you start, I don't know where I was."

"You haven't been taking the potion consistently," Snape said quietly.

Sharlen blanched. "I never have!"

"You really are a stupid girl," Snape hissed at her, pacing. Afraid she was about to be punished again, Sharlen felt her legs begin to give way; she was so afraid of what she'd done, and who she'd been, during her blackout. She didn't think she could bear a lashing tonight.

"You never told me-" she said, flinching hard at Snape descended on her. He pulled away after securing a blanket around her shoulders and shoved her toward the fire where it was warm. "What… is this?"

"Everyone was worried sick about you," Snape shouted angrily. Sharlen stared, wide-eyed, into this uncharted territory. "Professor McGonagall said even the Potter boy didn't know where you were and I thought…"

He stopped and never finished.

"You didn't tell me a regimen for that potion," Sharlen said cautiously, after several extremely long moments. "I've always just taken it when I started to feel light-headed or overwhelmed. But I have been drinking it."

"You will need at least three ounces every day. Consecutively," he said, drawing out the word to nail in the importance. "You can't allow Merope to take over because you may not come back to the surface."

"Why?" was all Sharlen could ask, a waver in her voice.

"Because she would need to drink the potion herself for you to take back over."

Sharlen put her head in her hands and focused on her breathing. After a minute or two, Snape set down a glass of the potion before her and she drank heavily. It practically burned her throat and she traced the heat down to her stomach, shuddering as she felt it quickly permeating through her. She tried to steady her breathing and tell herself nothing had changed just because she was now aware of the "why;" she needed perspective that her life was really not any different now. "Can you please tell me who she is? Or at least why my father put her inside of me?"

"You can ask him yourself," he said dismissively, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her to the door, "but now, bed."

Sharlen silently let him steer her all the way to the Slytherin dorms. Before he departed, he said, "If I find you're not diligent about this again, I will personally see to it that you take it daily."

After showering under the hottest water she could stand and gulping down half the potion she had remaining just to be safe, Sharlen sat up in bed while the other girls slept, staring wide-eyed into the darkness and rocking herself lightly to try and calm down. She stared out the window into the snowy whiteness and couldn't believe she'd been unconscious out by the lake; if Harry hadn't thought to try the locator spell, would she have died out there? Was Merope trying to kill her so she could be free from her body? Sharlen tried to shake the thoughts out of her head and flipped open her little black book to tell Harry she was okay and in bed.

He responded quickly despite the late hour. "_I'm with Ron and Hermione. Sort of-she's across the room. What happened with Snape?_"

Sharlen sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She had to tell Harry. "_It's a long story. I need to talk to you,_" she started, pausing as the text dried into the page. "_He was very scared, I think_."

After a minute or two, Harry wrote, "_Me too. We're studying, come over_."

Glancing around the room Sharlen located her boots, long sweater, and cloak and threw them on, not hesitating to go to Harry. Before sneaking out of her dorm, she left a note in Stacey's hand in case she woke up before Sharlen returned. She stuck to the shadows as she walked through the abandoned common room and out through the dungeon hallways, quick on the staircases both because the halls were drafty and Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, was always on the prowl. Sharlen's first run-in with Mrs. Norris was extremely unpleasant, as she had hissed for a solid five minutes while she explained to Filch that Snape had summoned her. It may have been because Sharlen's animal form was a bird, but she had never liked cats. Silencing several portraits with a look as she approached the Fat Lady, Sharlen gave the password and her best pitiful look in hopes it would allow her to enter. Coming through the porthole, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up and stood. Hermione wouldn't acknowledge Ron and stayed on the opposite side of Harry from him, but they must have told her what happened.

"You look awful," Ron said bluntly, handing her a blanket. She realized her teeth were chattering and took it gratefully.

"I feel pretty awful," Sharlen admitted through her shivers. Harry led her to the couch and wrapped her up in his arms while Hermione sat on the other arm and Ron took the floor in front of them, leaving a respectful distance.

"Did Snape punish you?" Harry asked sternly.

Sharlen shook her head. "I thought he would, but he really did seem worried. It was bizarre."

"I'll be amazed if you haven't caught cold," Hermione added, watching her shiver.

"I just can't calm down," Sharlen exclaimed, distressed. "I was walking around unconscious all that time? Where did I go? What did I do?"

The trio was silent. Hermione's brows were furrowed, thinking hard. "Have you taken the potion since you woke up?' she finally asked.

Sharlen nodded, then turned to Harry. "I have to tell you something," she said, suddenly serious. "I'm not a ghost, like I said, but Hermione was right about that potion. Snape hadn't been lying. There is a ghost inside of me."

"_Inside_?!" Ron and Harry exclaimed in unison, with Ron continuing, "Like, _possessing_ you?"

"No, not at all," Sharlen said, frustrated and scared. "This potion I take anchors a ghost inside of me so it can't be out and about bothering people. As long as I take it, I'm me and it just… is in there somewhere, doing who knows what, possibly conscious but possibly in a total blackout, I have no idea. But apparently when I'm overwhelmed and/or haven't taken a certain amount of that potion consistently, she can surface, which is what happened with this blackout." Harry and Ron couldn't keep the horror off their faces. "And Snape said if she 'gets out' for lack of better words, she would need to drink the potion in order for me to come back to the surface."

"So, how did you come back this time?" Hermione asked. "Did she drink it?"

"I have no idea," Sharlen admitted. "My flask was missing in the library that night. She must have drank it."

"Who is she?" Ron asked, as fascinated as he was bewildered.

"Snape won't tell me," Sharlen said with a sigh. "I only just found out about this a couple weeks ago."

"What I'm hearing," Harry interrupted, "Is that it's imperative you drink that potion every day. And maybe we do some research about who she might be." Sharlen settled in closer to him, scrunched up in his arms, leeching warmth from him. "Who would have anchored a ghost inside you?"

"My creator," she said simply, staring at the fire. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.

"Your 'creator'?"

"I don't have a mother or father," she admitted, staring straight ahead. She sat up and ran both hands through her still-damp hair. "I was created."

"By who?" Hermione pressed, although Harry seemed more apt to know.

"A powerful wizard," was all she gave them. They all sat in silence, digesting this news, for quite some time. Eventually Sharlen moved to get up and go. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you all this sooner," Sharlen said to Harry, avoiding his eyes and his aura. She didn't want to see how much of his trust she'd lost, or how suspicious he was of her. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to understand."

"Where are you going?" he asked, genuinely confused. "Aren't you still cold?"

She looked at him, puzzled. "You don't want me to leave now?"

"Why would we want you to leave?" Hermione asked, equally confused. "Those are both circumstances beyond your control. Fascinating, for sure, but not damning by any means…"

"Besides, who can study after hearing all that?" Ron said smartly, closing his books. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back across the room, away from him, gathering her own books and heading up the stairs. Ron sighed and followed not long after her, giving the couple some time alone.

"Stay," Harry said, pulling her back down. "I'll walk you back when you get feeling back in your bones."

"It was hard enough to sneak just me down here without being caught," she said with a laugh, settling back in with him under the blanket. "Do you know what would happen if the two of us got caught?"

"I have the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map," he said mischievously. "Let me worry about that." Sharlen laid her head on his chest, relieved to have let him on a few of her secrets. "Regarding this ghost," he started again, holding her tight, "We have to make sure you're taking the potion right. I don't want to lose you again."

Sharlen nodded, staring back into the fire. "Hermione and I will start another batch."

"Please don't think there's anything you can't tell me," Harry whispered against her temple. His lips jolted her in and out of visions as she moved, too fast to be clear. She stared straight ahead, unwavering. "I want to know you."

_Oh Harry,_ she thought sadly, allowing her face to hide against the skin of his neck just long enough to warm before the visions made her pull away, _You don't even know what you're asking_.


	10. The Christmas Party

The night of Slughorn's Christmas party, Stacey and Hermione were fussing about Sharlen's gloves. She was only half-listening; she worried she'd been distant with her friends lately since finding out about Merope-or rather, finding out that she existed. She often found herself looking so far inward, trying to find her, that the outside world melted away completely. She knew now from Snape that they could not be present together, but the paranoia didn't stop there.

Slowly, she resurfaced into their conversation. Hermione, ever-prompt, was dressed and ready and had visited the Slytherin dorms to walk down with Sharlen. Stacey was insisting on lace gloves, which Sharlen had already half-heartedly vetoed; the point of the gloves was to avoid skin-to-skin contact. "I think the long velvet ones are really stunning," Hermione insisted, fingering them gently. "It will balance well. Really."

"I defer to you," Sharlen said simply.

"Where did you get them?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. Sharlen's background was still a huge mystery to their group, but it was apparent, looking around the dorm room, that she had very little to her name.

"Who knows," she answered earnestly, rubbing her fingertips together. "I've lived in a few different houses and I think I found these in a closet in one of them and just… held on to them." The girls waited for more. Sharlen looked up at them innocently. "Gloves are particularly useful to me."

"But these ones…" Stacey prodded, dangling the lace pair close to her face.

"The lace is out, Stacey," Sharlen said, patting her gently on the shoulder. Stacey sighed.

"There are never parties here!" she whined, feet dangling off Sharlen's bed. "I wish this wasn't so exclusive."

"I actually agree," Hermione said smartly, handing Sharlen the gloves to put on. Silently she pulled them up past her elbows. "This Slug Club business is really uncouth. It's never a good idea to leave students out of things like this based on family or ability. It shows favoritism."

"Are we ready?" Sharlen interjected, standing. Hermione and Stacey took a step back to consider. The two weren't fast friends, but Hermione had been kind to get involved and seemed to enjoy doing more feminine things, since she primarily spent all her time with Ron and Harry. She'd insisted Sharlen borrow a black dress of hers when she said she had nothing to wear; after Harry invited her, she stared blankly at him for a full two minutes, attempting to figure out how she would acquire anything acceptable to wear. Hermione's dress was floor-length and came up to secure around her neck; Sharlen felt very exposed having her back and shoulders open, but upon Hermione asking, "Who do you expect to be touching you besides Harry?" she dropped it.

The two girls nodded their approval and as Hermione turned to gather her small beaded purse, Sharlen swung a large black cloak over her shoulders that fell to the floor.

"Oh but now you can't even see the back of the dress!" Hermione cried.

"I insist," Sharlen said with a smirk, securing the silver snake brooch.

"We hardly ever get to wear normal clothes, embrace it!" Stacey said excitedly. "Let me live vicariously through you. Show some skin."

"I get visions even when 'just Harry' touches me," she said sternly. "They are intrusive and I never know what I'm going to see. Sometimes they're quite disturbing. I will take my precautions."

The two parted ways on the third floor staircase, Sharlen off to meet Harry and Hermione off to find Cormac McLaggen-a choice that baffled Sharlen completely. Harry took her arm and kissed her cheek before they set off. Ginny, who had broken up with Dean, was opting to go with Luna.

"I just can't believe Ron and Hermione aren't speaking still," Sharlen mused as they made their way to the party. "This must be supremely awkward for you."

"It can be," he admitted with a shrug. "It's nothing like when Ron and I weren't speaking in fourth year."

"Now that I actually can't imagine," she said with a light laugh. She glanced over at Harry, who was beaming at her, and stopped walking. She cocked her head slightly, amused. "What's wrong?"

"You really do look beautiful. Remind me to thank Hermione for lending you that dress," he said quietly. "Some days I wake up and remember you're here in the castle and can't believe it's true until I see you again."

"Ah yes," she purred sarcastically, "A fine side-effect of my disappearing act."

"I'm grateful for whatever time I get with you," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. Sharlen got a brief flash of a bedroom she had never seen. It may have been in the Dursley's house… although he lived under the stairs when she knew him. She was distracted by his statement-it sounded so incomplete. She stopped again, in front of him, and took one of his hands.

"Why would you say that?" she asked quietly, her eyes wide. "I promise I won't disappear on you again. I'm strong now. I'm not going anywhere."

"That's not what I meant at all," he said, his voice suddenly heavier. He let out a brief sigh. "It's too good to be true that you're here now," he said finally, "and I'm just sorry we didn't have more time together."

"We do have more time together," she insisted, stepping closer. "We have all the time we want now."

"That's not realistic," he said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze. "But we have tonight. Come on, we're going to be late."

Sharlen swallowed her immediate reaction and continued walking with him. It occurred to her that his burden was weighing heavy on his shoulders, his aura a dense burnt sienna that relayed a consistent and deep-rooted anxiety-and a muddy gray: residual fear. "You mean because you're the Chosen One," she mumbled as they got closer.

Harry nodded, his eyes forward. He didn't question how she knew. "It's almost not fair to you that we're together now. I don't know what I have ahead of me."

Determined not to start having this conversation before a party, something she had never before experienced, Sharlen smirked and said, "Don't be such a martyr." She guided his hand to the small of her back and noted the surprise and grin the warmth of her skin provided him. "This is my first party ever and you are now officially one of two people here that knows I have an open-back dress. Let's have fun."

"So, where are we on that 'not being overwhelmed by visions when touched' thing?" he asked slyly, following her inside.

Upon entering, Sharlen insisted on keeping her cloak on. After a few greetings here and there, Harry reintroduced her to Slughorn, who Sharlen had not seen since Hogsmeade; she, like the rest of the Slytherins in her year, were with Snape for Potions class. The professor was extremely nervous around Sharlen, who was trying to smile pleasantly; it was difficult to be personable when someone's aura turned black as night when their eyes met yours. After Slughorn had successfully spilled two drinks while talking to them, Harry excused them and went to find Hermione, assuring the professor the two would speak alone later.

Sharlen grinned at him sheepishly, running a hand through her hair. "I swear I don't try to frighten people," she whined with a laugh. Harry shook his head.

"You have an odd effect on the teachers," he admitted. "Then again, you do have your quirks."

"People generally fear the unknown," she responded, peering around the party for familiar faces. She spotted Ginny and Luna talking to two Ravenclaw twins in green dresses and admired the decor; she had never celebrated Christmas.

"Or find it intriguing…" Harry muttered, both hands around her and running up her spine.

A grin fell across Sharlen's face. "Who made you the emerald sweater? With the 'H' on it?" she asked, staring past him at the vision his touch elicited.

Harry laughed. "Mrs. Weasley. I wear it every Christmas."

"Do you spend Christmas with them?" she asked, watching first-year Ron open his own, maroon sweater with an "R" on it. Harry nodded.

With a loud "PSSST" they turned to see Hermione beckoning them over. She was pointedly avoiding McLaggen and partially hiding behind some sheer curtains. Before Sharlen could follow Harry behind and join them, Snape gently but firmly grabbed her by the elbow.

"Your father wants to speak with you," Snape said urgently and firmly.

"What? No. Ridiculous," Sharlen replied simply, wrenching her arm from his grasp. She could feel Harry's eyes boring into her from behind. "In what world do you think-"

"This is not a question," Snape interrupted her, keeping his voice low.

Sharlen gritted her teeth. "I couldn't agree more. I have nothing to say to him and anything he wants to say to me, well, I have full confidence in you as the messenger." She straightened her robes self-consciously and glanced around the other partygoers, feeling alienated. "I want nothing to do with him."

She watched Snape's aura leap like a flame of gray and orange and smoulder deeper and deeper, closer to his body. It confused her immensely. How was this news? "Not an option," he snarled.

"Not my concern," she hissed. "When will you get that I'm not on your side? I'm not fraternizing with the enemy; I'm the creation of my enemy. His enemies are my enemies," she said finally, gesturing in Harry's direction. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Have you had your potion today?" he interrupted. The two stared each other down before Snape swept off to where she'd left Harry and Hermione, who was now replaced with McLaggen. Wanting distance from Snape but feeling guilty leaving Harry with him, she resolved to get them drinks to make amends.

Ginny was by the drink table too, with Luna gazing dreamily into the bowl of Butterbeer. Sharlen tried a smile and greeted the girls with a small hello; Luna was so unnerving and Sharlen didn't need auras to see Ginny's dislike of her. Giving them space, she stood at the end of the table. "Having fun?" she asked in a quiet, unsure voice.

"Sure," Ginny said, her voice cutting. "Luna was kind enough to take the place of the date I should have had."

"You mean Dean?" Sharlen asked, equally as biting. They both knew she meant Harry.

"That mouth will always get you in trouble," came Draco's voice, suddenly, very close to her ear. He had a tight grip on one of her arms and around her waist, his forearm right against her skin under the cloak. Immediately the visions came, sharply-he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Get off of me," Sharlen hissed, trying not to make a scene. His father was hitting him with a belt. She winced with a sharp intake of breath, sickened by the sight of it. "I can't see," she continued after a couple seconds, knowing some amount of panic definitely showed on her face. She watched Draco turning black and blue. And red.

"Piss off, Malfoy," Ginny said sternly, one hand ready for her wand although she was clearly unsure what to make of the situation. She was torn by her dislike and distrust of Sharlen, her hatred of Draco, and her hope that something was going on between them that would end her relationship with Harry. "Who let you in?"

"No one, Weasley," he sneered, too close to Sharlen's face, his grip on her tight. She was starting to struggle as he wrenched off one of her long gloves and grasped her bare wrist, completely overwhelming her.

"Give me my glove, now!" she hissed loudly, trying blindly to grab for it. Ginny and Luna watched, unsure of what to do, extremely concerned that Sharlen didn't appear to be able to see well though her eyes were wide open, her pupils very small. With her recent blackout, she was frightened of being overwhelmed again-what if Merope found a passage through to appear again? "I'm warning you, stop!"

"You've been avoiding me," he whispered. "I have a job for you."

"Draco, _stop touching me_," Sharlen warned, breathing hard.

"I'm sorry," he drawled, lips against her neck, "Afraid your boyfriend Potter will have a fit?"

Sharlen closed her eyes tightly and straightened up in one motion and Draco leapt back with a sharp yelp, falling into the curtains he'd been sneaking behind. Ginny and Luna stared, dumbstruck, as Sharlen twirled to face him. "You bloody shocked me!"

"Electrocuted," she corrected, furious as she snatched her glove back from him. "When will you learn I'm stronger than you?"

Draco jumped up, the skin of his hands and forearm bright red where he'd been touching her, snarling with fury. "You think because your father-"

Filch grabbed Draco by the neck of his collar and pulled him away to present him to Slughorn as an intruder, having seen the whole thing from across the room, and Sharlen stared horrified as the blond boy was lugged away. She turned to Ginny and Luna, worry etched all over her face.

"Wow Sharlen, that seemed very useful," Luna mused, mild shock on her face. "What was that spell?"

"_Fu...Fulguro_…" she breathed, straightening her cloak and gloves.

Ginny's wand was in her hand, her grip tight though it was aimed at the floor. She searched Sharlen's eyes, trying to keep up with what had just happened. "Your father… Is Snape...?"

"I have no father. Please excuse me," she muttered quickly, breathlessly, anxious to escape the mention of her parentage. She couldn't believe Malfoy would be so open about it… She swept after him as he was being escorted out by Snape.

Several feet behind them, Sharlen picked her dress up about a foot off the ground so she could quicken her pace. They were walking quickly and disappeared around a corner when she heard Malfoy speaking. Coming around the corner after them, she saw Snape had him against the wall and was hissing, "I swore to protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow."

Someone grabbed Sharlen's wrist, pulling her back and she whipped around to see it was Harry. He put a finger to his lips and crouched next to her, listening. Heart pounding, Sharlen worried what they were about to reveal and her mind reeled to learn about the Vow. Harry whispered, "He basically just admitted to hexing Katie. Did you hear that?"

Sharlen nodded, listening hard. At the mention of making an Unbreakable Vow, Harry's eyebrows furrowed; Sharlen swallowed hard, not believing what she was hearing. Over the summer, Narcissa and Bellatrix had visited their house and she had been locked up and hidden away for it-none of the Death Eaters were to know she existed. Now she knew what they were there for.

"I was chosen for this. Out of all others, me!" Draco whispered loudly, his words echoing off the stones. Harry's fingers tightened around her wrist.

"Let me assist you," Snape hissed.

"No!" Draco said, pushing him off. "This is my moment!" Sharlen closed her eyes hard, remembering the vision of his beating, hating Lucius, hating Draco's pride, hating the peers she grew into. She knew they were talking about killing Dumbledore.

When she opened her eyes, Harry was watching her carefully. "You okay?" he asked quietly. She nodded. "Any ideas what that was?"

She shook her head. A lie she hated telling, but he wasn't ready for the truth yet. She had to find out what Draco was planning. "We'll discuss with Ron and Hermione later," she promised. "I need to catch my breath. You head back inside, I'll meet you soon." Harry nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before heading back to the party, rubbing his scar.

Watching him go, Sharlen slid down the wall, trying to trace her thoughts. Somehow she thought parties were supposed to be more fun… She wrung her hands and tried to trace her lies, her secrets-who knew what about her, when to tell who what, how to gain the trust of the people she needed to help enough to reveal the truth about her. She was keeping too much from Harry; he and Dumbledore were piecing the mystery of her father's attempt at immortality together, she knew they were, and yet the two of them hadn't broached the subject-she was too afraid to talk about her father with him for fear he'd find out who and what she was.

She wasn't ready for him to know. He couldn't trust her yet.

_After Christmas, I'll ask him how far they've gotten_, she conceded, _and then I'll show them how useful I can be_.

With ten steadying breaths, staring hard at the stones beneath her feet, Sharlen stood and walked back to Slughorn's party. Looking around to find Harry, she got caught up in the details again; the lights and candles, the colors, the giant fir tree on the east wall strung with burlap and gold ribbons. She found Harry not far from it, talking to Ginny. They leaned against the wall, talking animatedly-most likely about Quidditch.

Watching them, Sharlen's hands began to shake. _Maybe she's the one he's meant to be with_, she thought miserably. From across the room, Harry tucked Ginny's hair back behind her ear as it had been shaken free by laughter. _They belong to this world. She would do anything to help him win this fight_. There was a fire in Ginny always burning through her aura; she was purposeful, loyal. A true Gryffindor. Sharlen realized she was clutching the front of her robes and thought back to Merope. _I might be very dangerous to him_.

Sharlen took one last look at Ginny and Harry laughing in the corner and fled Slughorn's party.

Lupin was so startled to see Sharlen in his doorway in her long black robes that he instinctively whipped out his wand and fell into a defensive stance. She narrowed her eyes very, very slightly but didn't move; Lupin dropped his arms, and his wand, when he saw she'd been crying. "Miss Down," he said, slightly out of breath with shock, "What's happened? Where's Harry?"

At the sound of his name, Sharlen angrily wiped her eyes and felt foolish for even coming to see him. She barely knew this man and had always been taught to hate him; it was a blind association she was trying to shake, but something inside her just couldn't flip the switch just yet. "He's fine. He's with Ginny."

"I see…" Lupin said softly, the corners of his lips pricking up slightly. She bristled at the look of quiet amusement on his face.

"Do you have something to say about that?" Sharlen growled at him, fists clenched.

Lupin chuckled softly, despite himself. "I'm sorry," he said in earnest, "It's just bizarre for the daughter of the Dark Lord to be concerned with such things."

Sharlen strode past him briskly and fell onto a stair, facing away from him. "I am mostly human, you know," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Like you."

Lupin's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"That potion Snape brews for you," Sharlen muttered, pulling her knees to her chest, "He brews one for me, too."

For several seconds, perhaps several too long, Lupin was silent, his mind racing. Matters with Sharlen were very sensitive in this castle, and he wished Dumbledore were in the room with him to assess whatever was about to come to light. "How long has he brewed it for you?"

"My whole life. Although I've taken to making it myself now, thanks to Hermione." Sharlen sighed, distracted. "She really is a genius."

"Sharlen," he said firmly, which made her turn at the hips to look him in the eye. "What's the potion called?"

Her bottom lip visibly quivered in the moonlit classroom. "Ancora Exspiravit." The still air between them dropped a few degrees while Sharlen watched Lupin's aura jump to the bright lemon-yellow of fear with a muddy gray overlay. "You know it, then."

"Anchors are few and far between," Lupin said quietly. He stood a safe distance from her while she sat on the stair, facing away from him.

"Do you doubt me?" Sharlen hissed at him. Her skin was covered in goose bumps.

"It's just extremely dark magic and Anchors don't historically have the longest lifespans," he continued. "It takes a lot of energy to give life to two spirits, and if there's a ghost anchored inside of you, that potion keeps it out of the forefront but your life is sustaining it to some degree." He waited for her to say something but her jaw was locked and her eyes looked wet. "Do you have any clues as to who it might be?"

Sharlen sighed and faced forward. "Hermione seems to think it's a Divine, whoever it is. She's been reading up on auras and says it's likely I can see them because she could. Can't use a wand because the wand doesn't know who to obey, etcetera."

"Then there's a possibility some of your other abilities can be attributed to it as well," Lupin mused. She could feel him pacing slowly behind her. "Perhaps you can see the Thestrals because she could."

"I've seen plenty of people die," she said darkly, glowering at him over her shoulder. "So it's irrelevant."

"I apologize," Lupin said, hands up. He was always so cautious with her, as if she were the werewolf. "I'm just drawing parallels."

"I don't even know why I came to you," she said, the edge in her voice folding over, her shoulders following suit. She was suddenly exhausted. She looked at Lupin with apologetic eyes. "I guess I thought you might be able to commiserate with something else living inside you. I just can't stop thinking about this. I'm supposed to be focusing on Harry and being useful to him, and all I can think about is this spirit I'm caging. I don't know anything about her but she's been with me my entire life. Is she conscious? Is she watching my life through me like a movie? What she must think of me… Of my life…"

"Firstly, I do understand," Lupin assured her, sitting beside her on the stair and looking forward. She watched him carefully. "But imagine instead that the 'other' is a part of you that you have no control over."

"I have no idea how this works," she admitted, looking at her hands. "It could be exactly the same!"

"Do you have blackouts?" he asked, leaning forward. She nodded.

"I've had two this year already," she admitted. "The first time I was in the hospital for three days. The second time Harry and Ron carried me to Hagrid's hut after I had been found by the lake, unconscious." She couldn't help but laugh, defeated. "It had been pouring rain. There's no way I went outside myself."

"And before Hogwarts?" he pressed her.

"I really don't know," she admitted. "I don't remember. Probably not. I only typically black out when the auras overwhelm me. That's why I fly to classes."

"It does seem to be starting to form shape…" he mused, standing and slowly pacing. "If this ghost had that divine power and you are able to access it through her being anchored inside of you, it could be that she is able to find passages to consciousness when you are overwhelmed by that element."

"Professor Lupin, what if I can't help Harry?" she asked, her voice full of tears. "I'm frightened to learn this about myself but knowing my father… what if this is someone who means Harry harm? What if that's the reason my father let me come here this year, where I'm close to him?" Lupin watched her carefully as the tears streamed down her face. "I shouldn't have come back into his life," she said with a sigh. "I'm not good for him."

"You keep saying you want to help Harry," Lupin said, leaning in further, staring at her hard. "What do you mean by that?"

"Help him defeat my father," Sharlen said with a long exhale. "I thought he could use me to defeat him. '_Neither can live while the other survives_.'"

Lupin was quiet for a long time. Finally, he said, "I don't think the ghost inside you means Harry any harm. I think it means your father harm." Sharlen looked at him bewildered. "It's quite difficult to get rid of a ghost," he continued, "and your father wouldn't have anchored a ghost inside of you if it possibly meant Harry harm; he would want it to be free to hurt him." Sharlen considered this quietly. "You anchor a ghost you can't bare to have wandering the Earth anymore."

"You think so?" Sharlen's eyes were wide.

Lupin gave her a reassuring smile and put a hand on her shoulder. His aura smoldered baby blue. "I do. And you are good for Harry." Lupin stood and strode to the window with his hands in his pockets. The moon was almost full and she could tell the cycle was wearing on him. "He was very close with Sirius and you being back in his life has brought some of the weight off his shoulders. I can't tell you much about what he has ahead of him, although I trust you said we're on the same side… but please, don't disappear on him again. He will need all the friends he has close to him before this is over."

Sharlen wiped her eyes and nodded. "I know he will."

"As for these blackouts," Lupin started, turning back to her, "Try to keep a log of their frequency and how often you take the potion. It could be that you're underdosing. It took me quite a long time to get mine right, as well…" he trailed off with a little humor in his tired face. "If you're consistent with it rather than taking an inordinate amount whenever you're feeling a little incorporeal, the blackouts may stop altogether."

Lupin saw her out not long after that and Sharlen made her way down the hallway back toward Slughorn's Christmas Party, brow furrowed and head buzzing. When she returned, she saw Harry and went to him with a weak smile.

"There you are," he said quietly, pulling her close. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear gently, careful to avoid her skin. "I was getting worried. You look tired."

"I'm okay, Harry," she assured him. "You know how I get in crowds."

He nodded knowingly and ran his hands up her gloved arms reassuringly. They were beside the giant tree now and Ginny was nowhere to be found, nor were Hermione and McLaggen. "Did everyone leave?"

"Not quite," he answered. Harry watched her eyes drift around the room, to the decorations and the dresses and the chatter and smiled faintly. "You're very distracted tonight."

"I'm sorry," she said, forehead in her hand. "I've just never seen… any of this." Harry waited for more and she ran her hand gently over a large fir branch, loving the smell. "I've never celebrated holidays or anything. I don't really understand all of this. The decoration, the togetherness. It's really lovely."

She watched Harry's mind working over her words, trying to imagine what her life must have been like with so many limited experiences. Finally, he said, "When I found out I belonged to this world, there were so many standard things in the wizarding world that I just knew nothing about. Quidditch," he began, making her laugh, "simple repair spells, magical creatures, things wizards consider second-nature. There was so much I had to learn, and I'm still learning how to… navigate…" Sharlen cuffed him lightly under the chin. "But you… there's so much of life you've never experienced. It's actually quite beautiful watching you discover things that have become second-nature to us."

"There's a lot you could show me," she said with a grin, hands resting on his chest, pressed against him.

"Well, to start, this is mistletoe…" he said slyly, wand over his head as he transfigured golden bells above them into leafy sprigs sprouting with white berries, and he kissed her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Then he led her to the dance floor where they swayed to a slow song playing.

Sharlen listened to the Christmases of Harry's past pre-Hogwarts and they laughed at the caricature of Dudley he painted for her with his stories. She could see the distance from that life in his eyes and knew he didn't think his future would reflect that life whatsoever. She didn't contribute-she had no experiences to compare.

"I really love that tree," she whispered, looking back to the giant fir. "I've never seen a tree like that."

"Want to come to the Burrow with us for Christmas?" Harry asked suddenly, his eyes bright as he held her waist. "I don't want to be apart from you for your first holiday."

Cold dread washed over her and seeped down her shoulders; she tried to control her face and estrange the worry to her eyes. "Did you say the Burrow?"

Harry laughed. "Well, that's what we call where the Weasley's live. Hermione and I have spent many holidays there—although, I doubt she'll come this year, considering her row with Ron."

Sharlen tried to appear good-natured, considering her disappearance earlier, but her mind was racing over the dream she'd had about the Burrow. She would never have guessed it was Ron and Ginny's house. She tried to shake what was definitely a premonition out of her head but she couldn't. She'd seen the Burrow go up in flames. She didn't know when it would happen, but she didn't want to find out. "I see."

"You really could come," he assured her. "Mrs. Weasley is wonderful and she is very welcoming. She, well… she's been very motherly to me."

Sharlen couldn't help but smile sweetly at the thought and be grateful to this woman she was likely to never meet. "I don't believe Snape will allow me to go, but I'll be here when you need me. I must admit, I'll be pretty jealous of Ginny having you all to herself." She tried a sly smile as Harry's cheeks visibly reddened. Inside she tried not the quake. She kept telling herself he had a life before she resurfaced, and Ginny was part of that—and he would need to have a life after her, too. She did not anticipate surviving this war.

"It's nothing like that…" he said quietly, but she stopped him with a smile, leaning up to kiss him. She held his face in her gloved hands and he gripped her a little tighter.

The two of them danced until only a few stragglers remained, and when Harry walked her back to the Slytherin dorms and went to kiss her goodnight the visions were him with Sirius and Lupin, talking at a long table with a girl with purple hair and he looked happy and content. When he pulled away she pulled him back and brought him to sleep on a nearby couch with her, wanting to keep him safe there with her always.


	11. The Memory of Bob Ogden

The day everyone left for Christmas break, Harry was a little worse for wear. For much of their time at Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had stayed behind at Hogwarts during the holidays so Harry would not need to go back to the Dursleys', but this year Ron had convinced him to go home with him to Burrow. Ginny, of course, would be going home too, and Hermione had plans to spend the holidays with her parents as well. Sharlen didn't have time to consider how lonely the chilly castle was going to become with all the students gone on holiday because she was so concerned about the vision regarding the Burrow; she never knew when her visions would take place, but the uncertainty was beginning to unhinge her-and with Harry so reserved, she was on high alert.

"Aren't you looking forward to seeing the Weasley's?" she asked at breakfast before the Hogwarts Express would take them all to London Ron was finishing his last-minute packing and Hermione was grabbing a book from the library. She put a hand on his forearm. "You'll be seeing Lupin too, surely?"

"Of course," he said, feigning a small smile for her benefit. "I do feel badly leaving you here, though. Maybe I should stay."

He had mentioned this several times, and she had selfishly wanted to ask him to do so, but she couldn't bring herself to make him stay. He would be safe with members of the Order, she told herself. She couldn't be selfish. He needed these people. "They're like family to you, you should be with them."

"But even Stacey won't be here to keep you company, right?" Sharlen looked over to Slytherin table and gave the girl a small wave, which she returned enthusiastically. Stacey had opted to stay at the castle, saying she'd never seen it at Christmas and her parents would be working, anyway, but they had surprised her by taking holiday time off and she'd decided last minute to head home. "Your first Christmas," Harry whined, "Snape should let you leave with us."

Sharlen shrugged, looking around the Great Hall with a faint smile. It was already very pretty; Hagrid had brought up giant firs from the Forbidden Forest (thoroughly checked for any pesky creatures before crossing the threshold of the castle) and the teachers had begun to decorate them with frost and ornaments. "He should but I'll be okay. I'll be here when you return." Harry nodded and fell silent again, staring into his pumpkin juice. Sharlen searched his aura and found him deep in reverie, very solemn and regretful. She pulled him to face her again. "Tell me about Sirius," she said suddenly.

Harry looked taken aback. "What about Sirius?" he said, and she could hear the emotion in his voice, barely covered by surprise.

"I know you're missing him," she said softly, reassuringly. "I know how much he meant to you. I'm sorry you can't be with him now."

Harry shrugged. "This time last year is when Mr. Weasley was attacked in the Department of Mysteries. Ginny had to convince me I wasn't being possessed by Voldemort. I got to spend last Christmas with him, at Grimm-at the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. I'm just… holding onto that."

"I know you need him," Sharlen whispered, giving his hands a light squeeze reassuringly. "I'm sorry."

Harry waited a few moments, thinking, then a grin broke out onto his face. "Did I ever tell you about the time he came to visit in Hogsmeade during the Triwizard Tournament?" Sharlen grinned and shook her head, leaning closer as he retold how he, Ron, and Hermione had scaled a rockface outside of town for half an hour, bringing him a loaf of bread and chicken wings. "We kept sending him packages of food because he was only eating rats as a dog," he continued with a laugh. "Sometimes it would take three owls to get the packages to him."

"Oh yeah, that's not conspicuous at all," Sharlen said sarcastically. "Your godfather on the run and owls carrying large parcels up a mountain where no one supposedly lives, that's a great plan."

"Hey, it was better than us sneaking up there ourselves," Harry said defensively. He was still smiling, though, as he told her more stories of Sirius. Then, suddenly, "So you know about the Order from Snape, right?"

Sharlen cleared her throat nervously. "Yes, he has told me a little about it. I don't really know much of anything, he keeps very quiet around me."

Harry frowned and considered her for what felt like a long time. "Sharlen, why were you suddenly allowed to come to Hogwarts this year? Why not before?" He watched as she shrank slightly; she was not prepared to talk to him about this yet.

"My… my Master-" She stopped herself, shaking her head as though angry that had slipped out again. "Snape was not allowed to let me come until this year. It was too risky before."

"Why risky?"

"Not a lot of people know I exist," she said, stuttering a little. "No one was really ready for me to exist, I think. I was also adamant."

"What do you mean-" he began, but she just looked at him with a sad smile.

"I wanted to see you," she said honestly. "I knew you needed help. So here I am."

The two looked up as Dumbledore strode into the Great Hall, past Gryffindor table on his way to the top table. He stopped beside them and peered down over his half-moon glasses, a small smile curling one side of his mouth. Sharlen blushed, becoming aware that her legs were draped over one of Harry's. "Professor Snape tells me you'll be enjoying the holidays here at the castle, Miss Down," the headmaster mused quietly.

"Yes, sir," was all she could manage. Dumbledore had not engaged her since their first meeting in his office and she had so many questions. In addition, she was naturally nervous around him; she felt like she ought to be standing, better prepared.

"Wonderful," he said with a full smile. "I think you'll find the castle is quite delightful this time of year. Harry can attest, I'm sure, to quite a few positive Christmas cracker surprises in this very hall."

Sharlen, mildly stuck on how informal Dumbledore was with Harry, turned to see him grinning. "I think the best year was my second year when there were so few of us and we didn't use the house tables," Harry said.

"Ahh yes, I do remember. Splendid things can happen when barriers are broken down completely." Sharlen looked between the two of them, fascinated. After a minute Dumbledore excused himself and went up to the top table, the two of them watching him go.

"You two are very close," Sharlen mused, eyes on Harry.

"He is… helping me with something," Harry admitted, avoiding her eyes.

"Anything I can help with?" Sharlen asked carefully, testing the waters.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure anyone can really help me with this." He gave her a reassuring smile. "But if you can help, I'll let you know."

When they were done, Sharlen stayed close to his side as he went back up to Gryffindor Tower to gather his things with Ron and Hermione. She walked them down to the Hogwarts Express and held Harry's hand the whole way. She found Stacey along the platform and drew her into a careful hug, sure to avoid what little skin of theirs was revealed despite the cold, and assured her she was not mad that Stacey decided to go home.

"I've already told Harry, I don't know what I'm missing so how can I miss it?" she exclaimed, a grin on her face as she tried to combat Stacey's pout. "Please don't feel guilty. I want you home with your parents. It's great they could take time off."

Stacey absentmindedly placed stickers along Sharlen's collar, ones that did the can-can every second or so. They were mildly disorienting. "You'll be lonely, I know you will," she whined.

Sharlen frowned at her. "Enough of this. Enjoy yourself or I'll hex you upon return." Stacey gave her roommate one last hug and boarded the train with her Ravenclaw friends.

While the trio found a compartment and stowed away their small bags, and in Hermione's case Crookshanks (Hedwig and Pigwedgeon were out delivering letters), Sharlen was marveling at the scarlet train and carefully following behind them. She pet Crookshanks absentmindedly and ran her other hand along the sliding door of the compartment.

Harry led her back outside before they left and gave her a tight hug. She held onto him a little longer than she meant to, trying to appear that nothing was wrong. Harry laughed a little and she reluctantly pulled back. "Am I doing something wrong?" she asked sincerely.

He cuffed her lightly on the chin. "Of course not. I'm glad you're seeing us off."

"Of course."

"I'll miss you," he told her, his voice quieting. "You promise to still be here when we get back for next term?"

"If you promise to be safe," she told him honestly, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

"Of course I will be," he said with a smile. "I'll be back before you know it."

She reached up to hold his face in her hands, eyes slightly wider in earnest. "Please be safe," she whispered. "Come back to me."

"I will," he promised. He wished her a good holiday, gave her one last quick kiss, and boarded the train to rejoin Ron and Hermione. The three of them waved to her as it pulled away from the station soon after and she stood alone on the platform until she couldn't see it any longer.

"Miss Down," Dumbledore called from the ground, causing her to whip around, startled. His hands were clasped in front of him and he stood very still. How long had he been standing there?

"Y-yes professor?" she stuttered, trying to regather her breath.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" he asked, more serious than he'd been with her before.

Sharlen jumped down from the platform and kept her eyes on his. "I had a vision about the Burrow," she said quickly. "I didn't want to worry Harry and I never know when the visions will come to fruition, but I'm afraid someone will try to attack them." Dumbledore listened quietly as she told him what she'd seen. "I have no proof it will happen during this break, or this year, or this lifetime," she continued hurriedly, realizing this sounded suspicious. "And I didn't want to worry anyone needlessly…"

"I'll let Professor Lupin know what you've seen and ask him to help Arthur and Molly Weasley to redouble their protections on the Burrow as a precaution. I'm sure you know he'll be staying with them for the holidays."

Sharlen nodded once to show she understood and hoped this would suffice. She looked back up at Dumbledore and said, "Do you think I was right to keep this from Harry? I feel like I should have-"

Dumbledore halted her with a hand and asked her not to talk about it any further here. Sharlen followed the Headmaster up to the castle and through the halls to his office, remaining silent. She wondered what steps he would take to warn them… and what more he needed from her.

"Does Harry know about the horcruxes yet?" she asked immediately as the door shut behind her. Dumbledore had hurried to a nearby portrait, muttered a few words, and the portrait vacated. Now he turned back to her and shook his head.

"He does not. He's becoming closer to Professor Sughorn in hopes we can complete a memory from him."

"That's ridiculous," Sharlen muttered, thoroughly riddled. "I've confirmed for you that they exist. Why wouldn't you have told Harry so we can start destroying them?"

"Because Harry must find out for himself and I need to be sure before I plant this in his mind," he said calmly. "I've told Harry everything I know for sure and he understand that we are operating under suspicions from here on, delving into the memories of others to try and glean a clearer image of your father when he was young. I don't expect your father to have divulged his deepest secret to you considering your close proximity to Harry, so I need to be sure my hunch is correct. This is very delicate and Harry's been through a lot. Surely you can understand."

Sharlen stared at him. "Of course he's been through a lot," she said obviously, as if that had been an extremely stupid thing to say. "Doesn't that mean he should be included in the entire process? Why shouldn't he know what you're considering or why it's so important to get that memory from Slughorn? What's the benefit of keeping him in the dark?"

"There's still a possibility," Dumbledore said, fully turning to face her, "that he won't need to do this alone, or at all. I want to spare him whatever I can."

"Of course he won't be alone! Why do you think I'm back in the picture?"

"Sharlen, I don't want you sacrificing yourself for this. You're in a very dangerous position. The less involved in what Harry has ahead of him, the better."

"Why are you acting like this?" Sharlen shouted at him, frustrated. "Why don't you want me to help? You don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, Sharlen," Dumbledore assured her, walking around his desk to face her. "But contrary to popular belief and the opinions of the editorial staff at the _Daily Prophet_, I know what I'm doing."

"So you have some grand plan here that you can't let anyone else in on?" she threw at him, crossing her arms. "Everything has to happen a certain way, in a certain order? Can't adapt too quickly? Are you forgetting that Harry may be attacked on this break?"

"Mostly yes," he said, pondering. "And mostly no." Sharlen's jaw nearly hit the floor; how did people deal with this man? "All you need to understand, Sharlen, is that there are people I need to protect. One of them is you."

"_You_ don't understand, then," Sharlen said, taking a step forward. "I don't plan on surviving this. There is no scenario where Harry and I fly off into the sunset on Buckbeak the Hippogriff. I'm not an idiot." Dumbledore watched her carefully, waiting. "In order to help Harry, my father will realize quickly that I've betrayed him. That won't bode well for a long lifespan and besides, I'm not destined to have one, anyway."

"Ahh yes, you're referring to Merope," Dumbledore mused. "But we'll get to that later." Sharlen didn't question how he knew about the ghost anchored inside her. He strode over to the Pensieve and looked inside it, hands clasped behind his back. "There's more at risk in your outright defiance of your father than just your own life, Sharlen. And I wouldn't be so quick to sign off on your early death, either."

Sharlen's face was pinched with confusion. "What are you talking about? Isn't that what war is? Outright defiance?"

"War is espionage," said Dumbledore, "and the careful tactics that hopefully result in the least amount of lives lost in the interest of peace or power. Sharlen, if you defy your father outright, you'll put Severus in danger as well." Sharlen gawked at him openly. "And he is very dear to me."

"So you really do think he's on your side?" she half-laughed, completely dumfounded. "I grew up with him. I've seen what he's done, and I beg to differ. He's a Death Eater through and through."

"He has not been the kindest caretaker you could have been given, yes," Dumbledore agreed, "but you've kept him on his toes all these years and he's played his part well. You should know he cares a great deal about you."

"As people keep telling me…" Sharlen muttered, eyes rolling. "So you're saying it would benefit your cause more for me to appear on the side of the Death Eaters than to out myself as a rebel, yes?"

"Quite, as Professor Snape does."

"I don't understand," she admitted, shoulders falling. She dropped the argument about Snape; it disappointed her to think Dumbledore trusted him.

"Keep your friends close," the old man mused, "and your enemies closer." He turned to meet her gaze. "Harry is not ready to know of your origin, that's for sure. And when he does find out there's no guarantee that he won't hate you. You've said you're prepared to die for this war, so I assume you're prepared for that likely scenario. But when the time comes, Harry is going to need his friends, as I've told you, and having a friend on the inside is often the difference between losing the war and winning. You have the opportunity to aid him magnificently, or to put yourself and Severus in grave danger. And while you can be cavalier about your own life, I fear Harry would be very distracted if you died prematurely trying to help him. He struggles with that, you see."

Sharlen felt like a stone was secured in her stomach with the acknowledgment that Harry could very well hate her for her creator. She had always known it was possible, but to hear it from Dumbledore made dread course hard and fast through her veins. And she didn't want Harry to suffer for her fate, either. "I understand," was all she managed.

"I want to show you, if you'll allow me, one of the memories I've secured and shown Harry," Dumbledore said, changing the subject and gesturing her to join him at the Pensieve. "If I were you, I'd maybe not let him know the name of the ghost inside you, because he knows who she is."

Sharlen blanched violently. "He does? How?"

"This is a memory of her."

Excitement and dread swelled up competitively inside Sharlen, her stomach squirming cold and hot at the same time. She felt her hands start to shake. "How…?"

"A wizard named Bob Ogden," Dumbledore said clearly, his eyes bright. "He was generous enough to share his memory of when he last went to the House of Gaunt." Dumbledore gestured her over to the cabinet that concealed the Pensieve.

On unsteady feet, Sharlen made her way over with Dumbledore. She was beginning to quickly lose the feeling in her fingers and brought out her flask and took three long gulps of the potion, staring at the swirling memories in the glowing Pensieve. "Is she… who was she?" she asked timidly.

"You're about to see," Dumbledore assured her, inviting her to enter. She tentatively pressed her face to the surface of the memories, the headmaster not far behind her.

Thoroughly disoriented when her feet hit the ground, Sharlen stayed partially behind Dumbledore as they watched the scene unfold. The wizard, Ogden, approached a rundown cottage wearing Ministry robes. A young wizard speaking in Parseltongue appeared and jinxed Ogden, when an older wizard comes, addressing the attacker as Morfin. Ogden told the man, named Mr. Gaunt, he was there on business involving Morfin, and was invited inside. Lips slightly parted, Sharlen steadily forced herself to follow Dumbledore inside, not believing that less that an hour before she'd been saying goodbye to Harry on the Hogwarts Expres platform.

_What did all this mean to Harry when he saw…_? she thought, but then she held her breath at the sight of a plain, teenaged girl in the kitchen of the cottage and everything seemed to slow down. The wizards remained speaking around them and Sharlen just stared at the girl, who was introduced as Merope, and her eyes that didn't point in the same direction. She walked closer to the girl and reached out as if to touch her shoulder-but she was just a memory. She looked frightened and confused, trying to make herself smaller and unnoticed as the other spoke. Dumbledore was watching Sharlen, who only looked away when Merope suddenly dropped a pot.

"What, I…" she muttered, coming to her senses. There was a faint humming inside her and she cleared her throat. "Professor, I wasn't paying attention…"

"Her brother Morfin jinxed a muggle," he said quietly. "Ogden is here to summon him to Azkaban."

Sharlen watched this unfolding, eyes widening as Gaunt pointed out that he had the Peverell family ring (she recognized it as the Horcrux her father had made) and pointed out the locket around Merope's neck as Salazaar Slytherin's (which caused Sharlen to audibly gasp and turn back to the girl she stood beside, both hands over her mouth). How had she not recognized it before? She'd been too busy memorizing Merope's face, the fear in her slight body, how purely unremarkable she was. The locket was there, plain as day.

Ogden told the Gaunts that their family lineage did not absolve Morfin from punishment for jinxing a Muggle, and horse hoofbeats could be heard nearby outside. Morfin teased his sister Merope, saying that was the muggle he'd jinxed and that she fancied him. Gaunt rounded on his daughter, who shrank visibly and said nothing when asked if this was true. A fight broke out immediately, Gaunt trying to attack his daughter and Ogden quickly defending her, only to be attacked in turn by Morfin.

Before she knew it, Sharlen was being swept away out of the Pensieve and back into Dumbledore's office.

Breathing hard, Sharlen turned to find Dumbledore but said nothing. Merope's shocked face as her father went to attack her was secured in her mind. "What…?" she managed.

Dumbledore obliged her, explaining that Ogden returned with Ministry reinforcements and placed Morfin and his father in Azkaban. "He didn't say it there, but his name is Marvolo Gaunt."

Sharlen's overcharged nerves gave a jolt. "You're kidding me."

"That was your father's grandfather," Dumbledore said quietly, "and Merope was his mother."

To show she understood him again, Sharlen nodded, feeling numb. Perhaps sensing that she was feeling light on her feet, Dumbledore waved his wand and summoned a chintz chair behind her, not unlike the ones in Trelawney's classroom. She fell into it gratefully, brow furrowed, thinking hard. "How did she die?" she asked finally.

"I believe your father was created under the influence of a love potion," Dumbledore said, returning to his desk. "The muggle Morfin had attacked in that memory was Tom Riddle, and it is my belief that once Merope became pregnant she stopped giving him the love potion thinking he surely loved her at this point, but he immediately left her. She died in childbirth after naming your father and he grew up in an orphanage, which is where I first met him."

"And she haunted my father ever since," she muttered, staring at the floor.

"Which is why he finally imprisoned her ghost inside of you," Dumbledore said conclusively. He watched her silently for a minute or so but she didn't seem to have anything else to ask. "I felt it important for you to know that the only person Merope means to harm is your father," he continued, and she glanced up, "least of all you or Harry Potter." Sharlen's head shot back up to meet his gaze and Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle good-naturedly. "Professor Lupin came to speak to me not too long ago, you see."

"Thank you for showing me," she said honestly. "It does ease my mind a little bit."

"I hoped it might. Just be sure not to let Harry know her name, or he will surely connect the dots about your parentage."

Sharlen stood without another word and left his office in a stupor, Merope's frightened face at the forefront on her mind.


	12. The First Christmas

Sharlen spent the majority of her Christmas holiday nestling into the solitude of her dorm, which was seldom ever free of Pansy and the others, and wandering the snowy grounds, admiring her footprints. She marveled at her imprint on the world and how small she was, all the while considering Merope's face for hours. She hungered for more information about her, and more memories-surely there were more, surely someone had interacted with her outside of her father and brother in her eighteen years of life. Sharlen wished more than anything that she could look inside herself and see Merope and speak to her; if she had been haunting her father for most of his life, surely she would have some insight into him that would be valuable to Harry and Dumbledore. She may even know what the other horcruxes were…

Walking around the lake, following footprints she had already left, she stared at the white and thought about letting Merope out to be interviewed. Would she cooperate? Would Veritaserum work on an anchored ghost if it came to that? Sharlen got the feeling that Merope didn't want to come out, considering she must have drank the potion to allow Sharlen to take control after her last blackout.

But more than anything, she wanted to talk to Harry about it and everything she was stewing over as the short, dark days became darker, colder nights. Wandering around and haunting the Slytherin Common Room alone (save for two first years who were also staying at the castle), she felt herself folding into several days of silence at a time. She realized, as Harry's snowy owl Hedwig came to visit her the second day after he'd left, that he had left his little black book at the school, which she had to admit disappointed her a little somewhere underneath her ribs. She read his letter over and over before putting quill to parchment in response. It read:

_Sharlen,_

_I've just realized I left the black book in my dormitory-I'm sorry, I know that would have made communicating to each other much more instantaneous. I was distracted thinking about Sirius. If it helps, I also forgot to pack any socks whatsoever._

_At first I thought you might be able to fly to the Burrow as an owl, but then I realized you wouldn't know how to find us the way Hedwig would. It's a little easier with Lupin here, but I still feel Sirius's absence. And yours. It seems silly, but I feel a little empty being away from you… it's familiar, like it was always there before you came back, but I never noticed until now. _

_I hope Snape is not being too horrible to you around the holidays, and I'm very thankful ickle Draco is home with mummy for the holiday-I don't much like the thought of you two alone in the abandoned Slytherin dorms. _

_Remembering you, and the feel of your skin, _

_Harry_

Her cheeks reddened the more the read his sign off. When did he become so romantic? Her disappointment, barely a flicker to begin with, died completely when she first glanced his tiny drawing of what must have been mistletoe in the bottom righthand corner. She laughed a little to herself, stroking a freezing Hedwig, thinking of how Ron would berate him if he ever saw this letter. She folded it carefully into a small square and tucked it into the inside pocket of her black book. She carried Hedwig to the fire grate to warm up while she wrote her response.

_Harry,_

_I'd have Hedwig bring you your black book, but the Fat Lady already told me (rather meanly) that she's changed the password since you left and won't be letting me in, so I have no means to reach it. I'm sure owl post will be fine for a few days._

_I miss you too, though I'm sure you must prefer the Weasleys' warm home to trudging around the snowy grounds with me; I'm rather enjoying being outside, despite the cold. There's something really beautiful and solitary about these empty grounds. Footprints are so fascinating. I'll be happy to have you all back, of course!_

_Snape has all but left me to my own devices. Please forgive me if this reply is short-I've actually never written anyone a letter before! And it's sweet of you to worry about Draco, but don't worry, I can handle him._

_Yours, _

_Sharlen_

_P.S., Hedwig is staring daggers at me at the idea of me sending her back out in the wind, so I'm going to give her a break. We'll write soon._

Satisfied, Sharlen turned to Hedwig and assured her she didn't have to go back out. "Do you want to stay here by the fire to warm up or do you want to come with me to the Owlery to send this?" Hedwig glanced around the Slytherin common room reproachfully, clearly not much liking it compared to Gryffindor's, and hooted her encouragement. Sharlen walked over to the nearest window and opened it to let her out, transforming into her twin and soaring out after her.

Despite the wind, the two were quick about it; Hedwig flew rather close to her, observing her, and when they arrived she quickly flew to the rafter most highly populated with other owls to snuggle in with. Sharlen returned to her human form and smiled up at her softly. "Well if it's too drafty out here just come rap on my window, okay?" Hedwig clicked her beak to show her approval and then closed her eyes to sleep. Before long Sharlen had selected one of the school's eagle owls and sent it off to find Harry at the Burrow, watching it go, shivering as she leaned out the window.

She passed her time reading whatever alighted her interest in the library, and reading a little ahead in her school work to try and keep up; she had noticed that Hermione's claim to fame was being bookish, so she kept to squirreling away a book or two from the library in her dormitory rather than reading around the trio; in truth, she particularly liked reading, as it was often her only option to pass the time in Snape's home when he was away at Hogwarts. Of course most of the books Snape owned were about the Dark Arts and potions, but here and there in the homes they'd moved to over the years she would find an odd muggle book of fiction or, better, a memoir; cut off from people all her life, the lives of others fascinated her-which was a large part of her obsession with Merope. Part of her was glad to have this time set aside to catch up on her schoolwork; everything had become secondary to being with Harry and she already was at a disadvantage in classes from not having practical instruction all these years. Snape always made sure she had the proper textbooks for the curriculums, but she only had herself to practice with.

Despite trying to distract her mind, she was unsuccessful; unable to relax she felt jumpy and was easily alerted by any sound, waiting for news of the Burrow being attacked. She knew Dumbledore had probably demanded every defense possible be granted on the house and land surrounding and that the vision was not necessarily going to happen at this point in time, but it still nagged her at the back of her mind.

The next time she heard from Harry was on Christmas night; Christmas Eve had been quiet at the school, a few students here and there at their house tables, Sharlen and the two first years alone at Slytherins'. They seemed content to stay away from her and she was glad of it. She remembered Harry saying that there had been so few students his second year that they had abandoned the house tables altogether and everyone remaining, teachers included, sat at one in the center of the hall; she supposed the twenty semiodd students and staff members were just enough to not warrant the change. The abandoned hall was much calmer than it normally was; Sharlen tried to enjoy the lack of anxiety, the lack of being completely overwhelmed by auras, but instead she felt loneliness pressing in on her from all sides. She'd opted not to eat until an odd hour on Christmas Day, hoping to miss just about everyone and be by herself. She hadn't seen Snape at all.

When the school owl returned with Harry's reply late Christmas night, Sharlen met him at the window and he promptly took off again. She clucked her tongue after him and muttered, "Oh yes, you go, I didn't want to reply anyway…"

The parchment had something inside when she opened it: an amber necklace on a delicate golden chain, carefully wrapped around a smooth stone to keep it from tangling. She marveled at it for several long moments before her eyes found the page:

_Sharlen, _

_Remind me when we get back to Hogwarts to tell you how ridiculous our new Minister of Magic is._

_I'm honored to have received your first letter ever written. I know this is a little late on your first Christmas, but Merry Christmas! The Weasleys all say hello, Lupin as well. They also wanted me to tell you that you went above and beyond with their gifts-I don't think Mrs. Weasley has ever had anyone handmake anything for her, but she was delighted at the scarf you made. The Dream Sachets are really clever magic, I could have done with a truckful of these last year. Let's not let Lavender know you gave Ron a present he actually enjoys; you should see the hideous chain he gave her. I'm hoping you like yours better than he likes his._

_I wanted to give you this necklace in person after the holiday, but I couldn't wait. It's got protective magic on it for whenever I'm not there with you. I can't wait to see you wearing it. _

_And you know I'd go walking around with you wherever you wanted to go, even though it's mad to take long strolls in several feet of snow._

_I'll be with you soon. _

_Harry_

Taking a closer look at the amber pendant in her hand she let out a soft sigh from somewhere deep inside her. It was polished in a trillion cut and set in a baroque gold framing. Sharlen hurried to undo the clasp and fasten the necklace over her head with shaking hands. She couldn't stop staring at it and it was undoubtedly the longest she had gone without thinking of Merope since her meeting with Dumbledore. She reread the letter as soon as she could tear her eyes away from the amber; she breathed a sigh of relief to know that her gifts had gone over well, as she had truly stressed over them.

She had never had anyone to give anything to, so when she found a simple gift idea in one of the library books that she could make with standard potion ingredients, she made around thirty to distribute to Harry, Stacey, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, all Ron's family (including the ones she only knew by name, and Bill's fiance, Fleur), and Lupin. Wrapped in slow-burning sachets steeped in a Sweet Sleep solution, they contained essential oils and ingredients that you lit as you were falling asleep and they combined to give pleasant dreams to anyone near enough to smell it. She provided little instructions on which spell to use for a slow burn (along with a glass jar, to avoid accidents) and wrote that she thought in a time of war everyone could use decent rest. She had also knitted scarves for Harry, Mrs. Weasley (a thank you for being so motherly to Harry over the years, and with the mindset that she herself made knitted gifts), Hermione, Stacey, and Luna. She'd hoped it would be satisfactory; she had no money to buy anyone anything, even Harry.

Where had this necklace come from? Had he bought it for her somewhere in Hogsmeade, or since being away from the castle? She found herself twirling it in her fingers absentmindedly as she wrote her response:

_You sweet boy_,

_I'm speechless at your gift. It is truly beautiful and I don't know what I've done to deserve anything so thoughtful. I don't think I'll ever take it off. _

_Did you really encounter the Minister on your holiday? You are certainly in high demand, I can hardly blame him for wanting to say hello (though it sounds like there was much more to it). I do hope you enjoyed your holiday with everyone, and please tell them I'm so pleased they enjoy the sachets. I hope they work well. Anyone dear to you is dear to me._

_I've been okay here at the castle but now that I've received this I'm afraid I'm a little desperate to see you. Please come back to me soon, and preferably in one piece. I know, I'm a worrier-what can you do?_

_Yours always, _

_Sharlen_

_P.S. It would be less mad to stroll in the snow if you'd remember to pack even one pair of socks. _

Pleased that her first Christmas gifts had gone over well, Sharlen sent the letter off with Hedwig up in the Owlery and began knitting herself a new black scarf by hand; she'd learned years ago (from a muggle book) how to knit, long before she knew that sort of magic, not that she was permitted to use it outside of school anyway.

A few days later, before Harry was due to return to the school, another letter came from him. It was much shorter than any of the others.

_Ginny nearly kissed me. I wanted to let you know what happened rather than chancing you seeing it in a contact vision at some point._

_It was quite out of the blue and I've explained to her that I'm quite happy with you. She seems put-out but understands. _

_It meant nothing. Please don't be upset._

_I'll see you tomorrow. _

_Harry_

Letting this sink in, Sharlen twirled the amber pendant in her fingers and pondered it lightly. Ginny really did that? After several long minutes of not knowing what she was supposed to feel, she had to admit to herself that she did feel a little sad-not because she was upset with Harry, but because she had hoped this would take a little longer to unfold. _I'm not ready to give him up yet_, she thought sadly. _Surely she can wait?_

Truthfully she had seen a vision of Harry and Ginny kissing before, and it was at the Burrow, or what she imagined to be the Burrow-only it was clearly summertime, and they were dressed for a formal affair, so she hadn't let herself worry about it yet. This clearly wasn't that time, and Harry said she had "nearly" kissed him. She wondered when it had happened-had he been laboring over whether or not to tell her for a day or two, or had he written to her straight away?

Sharlen had known in the back of her mind all along that Harry would have a life after her; she didn't know how long this war would be, but as long as her father was alive, she wanted to be with Harry and for him, as long as he'd have her. _But if I don't survive_, she thought honestly, _I'd want him to move on_.

She opted not to reply to the letter.

Still up in her dorm, Sharlen had yet to leave for a day's adventure around the grounds yet, when she heard someone hurrying up the stairs. Her heart quickly leapt to her throat.

"Sharlen," Snape said, panting very slightly as he stood in the doorway. Startled, Sharlen stood up off her bed in the vacant dorm.

"What is it?" she asked quickly. "Did something happen to Harry? The Burrow? Is everyone okay?" She felt hot dred bubbling up inside of her and her tense muscles, so wound-up all week waiting for this news, were growing ever tighter as she waited.

"They're fine," he dismissed, staring at her hard. "Your warning to Professor Dumbledore saved them from the attack."

"There was an attempt?" she asked quietly, a little horrified.

Snape nodded. "Potter and the others don't know, but Lupin, Moody, and Shacklebolt were able to chase off Bellatrix and Fenrir Greyback before they came near the defenses."

"Well… what is going on?" She couldn't let herself feel relief yet-it was written all over Snape's aura that he was troubled.

"Professor Dumbledore just let the teachers know that there's been an attack on another student's family," he said slowly, carefully. Sharlen's eyes narrowed and she took an involuntary step closer but remained silent. "We are to address our houses when they return from the holidays, but I thought you should know first. Stacey Davis and her parents were killed by Death Eaters on Christmas Eve."

Sharlen's brain went completely blank with shock and a faint ringing began in her ears. Still, she remained silent. "From what we know it was Rowle and Dolohov. They'd been trying to recruit the Davises for years to join The Dark Lord and he gave the order to kill them."

Now extremely aware of Stacey's vacant bed beside hers, tightly-tucked and well-made in her absence, Sharlen found herself completely lost for words. She could clearly see Rowle and Dolohov in her head-she had snuck a glimpse at them while they visited Severus once-and the ringing grew a little louder. Snape pressed on, staring at her. "There will be a memorial for her once the rest of the student body returns tomorrow. I thought you might want to… prepare yourself."

Sharlen slowly turned away from him, staring blankly, and walked to the window seat at the far end of their dormitory. Standing very still, Snape watched as she perched herself on it, her legs folded beneath her, and settled to look out the window away from him. Eventually, she heard him leave.

When her dorm mates returned the following afternoon, they found Sharlen in the same place, now horizontal, still staring out the window. She hadn't slept, nor cried, nor thought very much-all she could do was feel, like crashing waves, regret that the second person to ever show her kindness and acceptance no longer walked the Earth. None of them acknowledged her or spoke to her as they unpacked, and Sharlen wondered how they would react when they found out.

Hours after they had cleared out, Sharlen knew the memorial must have taken place as the sun went down and none of her dorm mates returned. She assumed they would be avoiding her, not wanting to have a tragedy link them to her more than sharing a sleeping space did. Around nine o'clock, she began to sit up, aching horribly from not moving for so long, bringing a hand to her head.

She had only ever lost one person she ever cared about, and that was Harry, and he hadn't died. She had been surrounded by death all her life, but she kept waiting for Stacey to burst in and show her a new pack of stickers that danced or whatever new nail polish colors her mom had put in her Christmas stocking. Adjusted to the dark around her, Sharlen turned her eyes to her bedside table where her little black book was. Legs and arms shaking, she slowly made her way across the dormitory toward it and picked it up gingerly. Harry and the others would have gotten back hours ago. Flipping to the last vacant page, she saw a note from Harry:

_Lupin just told us. I'm so sorry. Please find me when you can._

Sharlen read it through several times and then placed the book back on her bedside table. Footsteps near the stairs alerted her to Pansy and the others returning and she perked up like a rapt dog listening carefully. "Well you know, in normal schools, when a roommate dies you typically automatically get all perfect grades-we probably won't be expected to take our final exams," Pansy sneered as the three of them entered together. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the pure loathing on Sharlen's face.

In one quick, slashing movement, Sharlen ripped her arm through the air, her hand clawlike, and Pansy's lips zippered themselves shut. Her eyes grew huge with fear and a muffled scream that had no way of escaping as she snatched uselessly at her mouth, the other two leaping back a foot or two in horror. Wordlessly Sharlen grabbed her flask and her book and swept past them out of the dormitory, opting to let them sort it out themselves. Surely, she reasoned, they knew a standard anti-sticking charm.

Heart pounding hard in her ears, the blood rush was making her dizzy; realizing she hadn't taken her potion yet that day, she took a long draft of it as she stormed out of Slytherin's common room, everyone milling about, staring. She scribbled a note to Harry and swept off to the Astronomy Tower, wanting solitude but knowing that cutting herself off from Harry wouldn't make her feel any better. She climbed the stairs for what seemed like an eternity, refusing to slow down, her previously lethargic body groaning in protest, lactic acid bursting in her thighs, but she didn't care. The chill of winter as she ascended the tower drew her nearer.

When she entered the landing, she was not alone. Professor Trelawney turned around suddenly, as though startled, then drew herself up to full height and drew her throat with some difficulty. "The stars told me you'd be on your way," she said, that same false mysticism in her voice as per usual.

"Did they," Sharlen said, not a question but not strong enough to be a statement either. The two had overall made peace with each other in classes, Sharlen eventually realizing she had to be patient with the professor and respect that she was her teacher. "I'm sorry to disturb you, I'll just go."

"No dear," Trelawney said, reaching a long, skinny hand out toward her. "You are deeply troubled and need the counsel of the stars. I'm finished here." She drew her shawl tighter around her neck and went to walk past Sharlen, but she reached out quickly to grab her arm.

"Wait," she said, desperation in her voice. Trelawney waited patiently. "I-I wanted to know… if there was a way we could channel Stacey. I want to say I'm sorry."

Trelawney looked deeply troubled and began shaking her head in small, tight movements. "No, no dear, I'm afraid that sort of reaching into the Beyond is forbidden at Hogwarts. I am very sorry for your loss, dear. Stacey was a mildly talented Seer."

Ignoring the backhanded compliment to her friend, Sharlen nodded absently. Trelawny peered more closely at her, leaning in slightly. "Something else on your mind, dear?"

At that moment Sharlen saw Harry peeking out from under the Invisibility Cloak, looking at her questioningly, clearly trying to avoid all contact with Trelawney. Immediately feeling returned to her organs, warmth spreading through her and she began to ignite-she'd forgotten how much she missed him, how much she longed to be wrapped up in him. It had felt like forever without him. "Actually yes, Professor, but I don't know if there's an answer to my problem at all," she said suddenly, more power in her voice.

"Well what is it my dear?"

"I wanted to know if there's a way to turn off my contact visions for short periods of time," she explained, returning her gaze to Trelawney's bug-like eyes. She nodded to show understanding. "I'm not sure even where to look to find out but it would be… convenient to have a way to turn it off every once in a while."

"I would recommend adapting a guided meditation ritual…" she said thoughtfully. "That will help you to better connect with your mind, body, and spirit, which may allow you to eventually focus past the visions. I am not sure how you could stop them, or why you'd want to!"

"Thank you Professor," Sharlen said, now anxious to be rid of her. "Would you mind leading guided meditation for me?"

"Why of course not, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Monday evenings once term starts?"

Sharlen agreed and Trelawney bade her goodnight, sweeping off down the stairs and, unknowingly, past Harry. Harry watched her go and unearthed himself from the cloak once she was out of sight, turning back to Sharlen. She surprised him by jumping up into his arms, securing herself around his neck and waist, clinging tightly. Steadying himself, Harry carried her over to the edge of the Astronomy Tower and propped her up on the stone rail, holding her close to him for stability. He pulled back a little but she was averting her face. Between kissing her cheeks lightly, he told her he missed her.

"I missed you too," she said in a small voice.

"I'm so sorry about Stacey," he muttered, watching her carefully.

She looked up to meet his gaze. "I don't know when this is supposed to feel real."

Harry shrugged his shoulders very lightly, his expression stoney. "It's still hard to believe Sirius is gone some days. Other days it's all I can focus on."

"I just feel empty… disoriented…" She looked to her left off the Astronomy Tower. "Snape told me she was dead and it just seems like an impossibility. Like she's going to show up a day late to term like it's some big joke."

Harry pulled her back to him round the shoulders and she tucked herself into him, leeching the warmth of his body. They stayed like that for a long time, their cheeks reddening with cold, hair blowing lightly in the chill air.

Harry suddenly pulled back to look at her. "Did you get my last letter?"

Sharlen thought a second and then it dawned on her. "Oh, right, Ginny," she muttered, nodding her head. The previous day felt like a lifetime ago.

"Yes, Sharlen, I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, eyes wide with worry. "I don't know how you'd react but I didn't want to wait to tell you, I thought it would be better-"

She shh'd him softly. "I don't mind. It's okay. I wasn't upset."

"You're not angry at Ginny?" Harry implored disbelievingly. Sharlen shook her head and he gave a sigh of relief. "Good. Ron's whole family is really important to me and it took me by surprise… but she's on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and she's…" He trailed off.

She smiled at him faintly, able to read his confusion in his aura. He was fond of Ginny, there was no mistaking it. But she knew he was more fond of her, at least for now. "You are thoughtful to consider my feelings," she said quietly, looking up at him. "It was better to hear about it from you than see it in a vision, you're right. But I'm not upset. You even said nothing really happened." His aura hinted at light guilt beneath the surface, but she swallowed her reaction to it. It just didn't seem important with Stacey's death so fresh and surreal to her.

Harry smiled at her fondly and reached up to take the chain glinting around her neck; he gently pulled the amber necklace out from under her robes and followed the chain with his hand as the amber settled on her chest, his knuckles resting on her sternum as he held it tenderly in his fingers. She watched his eyes carefully, but his aura is what kept her attention; his heart had filled to see it on her, deep purple nostalgia rippling through soft peach adoration. His eyes met hers. "It's great to see this on you. Do you like it?"

"I love it," she said meaningfully. She gave him a tired smile. "Thank you for thinking of me. It's really beautiful."

"I wanted you to have it. To keep me with you." Harry craned his head down to kiss her, and she deepened the kiss eagerly, finally letting herself feel how much she'd missed him. When they broke apart Harry helped her off the stone railing and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, escorting her down the stairs. "Come to Gryffindor Tower with me, I have something else for you."

"You have to tell me about Scrimgeour too," she noted as they disappeared under his Invisibility Cloak. She could already feel the extra energy had returned to the castle, though it was subdued from what it might have been from word of Stacey's death. They made their way through the school, dodging Mrs. Norris hastily at one instance, as Harry relayed the conversation he'd had with the Minister of Magic when he and Percy Weasley had shown up out of the blue on Christmas. When he had finished, they were already in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. "I really had hoped he would be an improvement from Fudge," Sharlen said with a sigh as Harry gave the new password. "You'd think the head of the Auror Office would have a little more spine…"

"I think they're getting desperate to seem effective. Harry just told me the whole story, too," Hermione added in as Harry hurried off up to the boy's dorms to retrieve whatever he had for Sharlen. Hermione gave her a small wave of welcome and a small present. "Thank you very much for the sachets, I tried one out on… well, one of the nights we were gone, I was having trouble sleeping. They are really lovely magic."

"I'm so glad to hear they work," Sharlen said with a grin. "You didn't have to get me anything…" she added, embarrassed.

"I wanted to!" Hermione said as she opened it gingerly. She found a new pair of emerald green knitted gloves inside. "I've been knitting for about two years now for the house elves here at Hogwarts, and I noticed you could use a new pair."

Sharlen felt like hugging her would have been appropriate, but she thanked her graciously instead, touched that anyone wanted to gift her anything at all. She put them on without delay over her regular pair.

"I'm sorry about Stacey," Hermione said suddenly, and Sharlen could see sadness close to her inner aura. Sharlen nodded silently. "She was very sweet. It's just horrible.

Harry arrived with two gifts in his hands and offered the smaller one to Hermione, saving Sharlen from having to talk about the painful subject. "Mrs. Weasley gave this to Ron to give to you, Hermione, but… either way, it's toffee and a new shawl, I believe… And she wanted me to be sure this got to you," he said with a grin, offering the larger parcel to Sharlen. She stared at it with her lips slightly parted.

"Harry, I…"

"She was really touched by your gifts for everyone," Harry explained. "Even Fleur liked them. And I think she was a little downtrodden to hear that you were stuck at the castle with Snape…"

With fingers slightly trembling, Sharlen reached for the note attached and slowly unfurled it.

_Dear Sharlen, _

_Harry let me know you'd likely be embarrassed to receive this, but I had to express my gratitude over you warning us about the attack. My family is everything to me and I can never thank you enough for making sure Dumbledore knew we should be expecting something. I don't like to imagine what may have happened. And then, on top of that, you were thoughtful enough to give our family something very valuable: Peace of mind! You are truly a thoughtful young woman._

_The scarf is really lovely-your purling is excellent!-and I can never thank you enough, but I do hope this brings you some holiday cheer. Next year, you must come along to the Burrow. I'll tell Severus myself that I insist. _

_Happy Christmas, _

_Molly Weasley_

Hermione and Harry watched as tears slowly leaked out of Sharlen's eyes and down her cheeks, where she couldn't brush them away fast enough. She read the letter through a second time, something warm welling up inside her that she had never felt before. She felt Ron watching her from a corner with Lavender Brown and offered him a small smile and wave, assuring Harry and Hermione that she was okay. They returned soft smiles to her and followed her to three vacant chairs to open the gift.

Harry placed it lightly in her lap once she sat down, and Ron made his way over. Hermione gave one last hasty "goodnight" before sweeping off to the girls' dormitories and away from Ron, who stood beside Harry's chair to watch. From the package Sharlen unearthed a tin of homemade toffees, a mountain of pumpkin pasties (Harry must have told Mrs. Weasley she had a soft spot for them after first trying them months ago at the Halloween feast), and a knitted black sweater with a large white "S" on the chest. She held up the sweater before her with hands still trembling; it was much too big for her and Ron gave a sigh beside Harry as if slightly embarrassed.

"I told her you were rather slight," Harry said, amused, gesturing to the over-sized sweater, "but I think she was a little excited."

"Of course, she's given you a Weasley sweater… at least it's not maroon…" but he was cut off by shock as Sharlen brought one hand away from the sweater to hide her nose and mouth, eyes closed, holding the gift tight to her chest as she quietly cried. He looked dumbfounded.

"It's just wonderful," she cried, stifled by the gloved hand covering her mouth. "Your mother is the most wonderful person in the world."

Harry beamed at her and insisted she put the sweater on. She did so without delay. She wore it all night as she slept on Harry's chest on a couch in Gryffindor Common Room, his arms around her and her cloak on top of them for warmth.


End file.
